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Now that the war's over and a lot more civilian
goods are on the market, it's a big temptation
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But to fall for that temptation is plenty dan-
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Right now the best possible way to keep your
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These Bonds are exactly like War Bonds.
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three you put in !

If you stick with the Payroll Savings Plan,
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So — any way you look at it — isn't it smart to
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Stick with the Payroll Savings Plan !

save we easy way.. . buy your bonds

THROUGH PAYROLL SAVINGS

ZIFF-DAVIS PUBLISHING COMPANY

This is an official U. S. Treasury advertisement— prepared tinder auspices of
Treasury Department and Advertising Council

AMAZING STORIES

While supply lasts—
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Love, or How to Woo and Win a Woman

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/HI STORIES gom/deie

THE GREEN MAN (Novel— 86,500) by Harold M. Shorman . . 8

Illustrated by Julian S. Krupa
He came from the planet Talamaya bearing a vitally important manage for the inhabifants of Carthl

FME CADUCEUS OF HERMES (Short— 3, ! 50) ... by George Ta.hman 48

Illustrated by Arnold Kohn
Jhoro it was: the saduceus used by Hermes himself. And it turned out to be a powerful gadgefl

SETAWAY (Short— 6,000) . , by Chester S. Geier 56

Illustrated by Peitj

It was a way of escape never used before— -to elude capture by police by taking off in a spaceshipl

M-M-M-M-M-MI (Short— 3,500), by Millen Cooke 68

Illustrated by Virgil Pinlay
She came through a Time Warp, from a world where kisses were unknown— and became an atavistl

COPYRIGHT, l?4i, ZIFF-DAVIS PUBLISHING COMPANY
Membar of the Audit Bureau of Circulations
William B. Ziff, Publisher; B. G. Davis, Editor; Raymond A. Palmer, Managing Editor; Howard Browne, Associate
Editor; William L. Hamling, Assistant Editor; Herman R. lollin. Art Director; Malcolm Smith, Art Editor; H. G.
Strong, Circulation Director; H. J. Morganroth, Production Director

We do not accept responsibility for the return of unsolicited manuscripts or artwork. To facilitate han-
dling, the author should enclose a self-jddreiiad envelope with the requisite postage attached, and
artists should enclose or forward return postage. Aceeptad material is subject to whatever revision is
necessary to meet requirements. Payment coven all authors', contributors' and contestants' magazine
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and drawings will be considered as part of material purchased. The names of ail characters that are
used in short stories, serials and semi-fiction articles that deal with types are fictitious. Use of a name
that is the same as that of any living person is coincidental.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

OCTOBER 1946

VOLUME 20 NUMBER 7

f4U FEATURES ComftUtt

THE OBSERVATORY by The Editor 6

UNTAMED, FERTILE ACRES by Carter T. Wainwrigkt. . 54

WHO ARE THE IRISH? by H. C. Goble. 55

REGENERATION by Charles Reeves 67

PHOTOGRAPHY IN MEDICINE by Pete Bogg 75

THE ONION CURE by Jack Sheridan 156

SCIENTIFIC MYSTERIES by L Taylor Hansen 158

THE OMNIPRESENCE OF MIND by Alexander Blade 161

WHAT MAN CAN IMAGINE by The Readers . . ...... 162

MAGNETICS AND LIFE by John McCabe Moore . . 162

MAN'S ABUSED MENTALITY by John McCabe Moore. . 163

SUPERSONICS by H.C. Goble 165

STATIC WAS LICKED TWENTY YEARS AGO . . by H. C. Hefferlin 166

f 0.000 YEARS OF DREAMS by John McCabe Moore. .168

DISCUSSIONS by The Readers. 169

Front cover painting by Robert Gibson Jonas illustrating a scene in "The Green Man"

Published monthly by ZIFF-DAVIS FTTKUSHTNt} COMPANY at 185 North Wabash Arum*.
Chicago X, IlL N»w York 0«Sc«. Empire State Building. New York I, N. Y. Washington Office, velum* SO
AMAZWO International Building, 1318 F Street. N. W. Entered as second class matter April 11. 1946. at Numb « r i
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jail ' address. All communications about subscriptions should be addressed to the Director of Circula-
tion, Ziff-Davis Publishing Company, 18S North Wabash Atenu*. Chicago 1, IU.

THE Green Man is here! This issue brings
you one of the most hilarious and at the
same time significant novels that has been
written in years. It is sheer fantasy; there isn't
a word of fact in it — so we don't ask you to be-
lieve it. We ask you only to enjoy it, and we
know you will.

'TPO ROUND out the issue, Millen Cooke pre-
sents a story which has one of the most un-
usual titles we have ever presented. Briefly, it's
what you say when you see a beautiful girl walk
down the street — or what the beautiful girl says
when she is twenty-one and is just now being
kissed for the first time I M-m-m-m-m-m 1

VlfE WANT also to pay tribute to those great
*' Americans (and citizens of other countries)
who have unwittingly aided Harold M. Sherman
in his attempt to portray, as nearly as is humanly
possible, the answer to a question that has become
a very real one: "What would happen if a being
came to Earth from another planet?" We all
know that space travel, now that rockets and atom
power have come out of the pages of Amazing
Stories and into the pages of our daily papers, is
only a matter of time. The question Sherman
answers in The Green Man is in the minds of all.
The answer is portrayed in what we frankly admit
is fantasy from the first word to the last, occurring
in a world of people we all know intimately in
the light of public appearance and influence on
our daily lives. To those people we apologize for
the words we put in their mouths, and for the
reactions we imagine they present to the "fact" of
a man from another planet—if such were imag-
ined to be a fact. It is all in the spirit of fun,
and in the delicate satire that characterizes a true
and worthwhile fantasy. Mr. Sherman has made
this story so "real" to us that we can almost feel
the "shock" as the Green Man shakes our hand,
and our ears tingle as he gives us his inspiring
message.

/^EORGE TASHMAN helps Mr. Sherman make
this a memorable issue by giving us a delight-
ful short called "The Caduceus of Hermes," which
is a story of a man who actually found the famed
caduceus of legend, and found that the legends
around it were not the fiction he had assumed
them to be.

/CHESTER S. GEIER is always a favorite and
^ we think you'll like his "Getaway." It has
some neatly placed punches in it that will cause
you to remember the story for a long time.

COMETIMES we wonder about this civilization
^ of ours, and when we consider certain things,
we get the answer — and it comes out atom bombs !
Let's analyze the points in favor of dropping atom
bombs all over the place. Take, for instance, our
vaunted "science." Almost every day it pops up
with a brand new and fantastically efficient way
of killing people. We no longer can keep track of
the new weapons. Atom bombs, rocket ships,
molten metal projectiles traveling 24,000 feet a
second, disease germs, radioactive dust sprayers,
red-blood corpuscle destroyers — ad infinitum. But
how about a really fine wash machine; or a cure
for tuberculosis? Next, how the recent revelation
that 59% of all crimes are committed by children?
The children's fault? Nonsense; it is their par-
ent's fault. That's the way these young "crim-
inals" were brought up, or the way they were "not
brought up." What about the peace conferences,
failing one after the other to do anything except
lay the foundations for more war? What about
the war talk? If we aren't going to have a war
by natural process of events, by gum well talk
ourselves into it! How about our big cities?
Cesspools of filth, smoke, noxious gases, noise,
competitive selfishness, surly, hateful people. How
about our streets and highways, with 38,000 peo-
ple slain on them yearly? How about the three
biggest industries in the country, liquor, tobacco,
and narcotics? How about the hundreds of thou-
sands of the insane, the percentage leaping upward
like a jackrabbit, to say nothing of the neurotics
who aren't known to be insane?

AND you 41% of the children of today — what
do you think about it? How do you like
the legacy "the old folks" are fixing up for you
to inherit? Nice legacy, isn't it? At the best it
will be a mass of smoking ruins from atom bombs
— at the worst, keep on in its present trend until
civilization becomes complete savagery such as the
savage could never attain. Rap

AMAZING STORIES

^Jou Can Influence Others
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Demonstrable Facts

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The figure advanced toward Professor Bailey, and he saw that it was not exactly human

-rt. GREEN MAN

By HAROLD M. SHERMAN

How would we actually receive a man from another
planet? Let's imagine one came to Earth during 1945!

could be seen only through the great
telescope at Mount Wilson Observa-
tory. To Professor Bailey they out-
shone in brilliance and glamour the en-
tire constellation of stars and starlets
which could be seen through the eye of
a movie camera.

That was one of the troubles with the
people of this earth — they were en-
amoured of the wrong kind of stars!
One look at the heavens on a" clear, cool

THEY say anything can happen
in California.
But Professor William Roscoe
Bailey did not think it could happen to
him — not to a world-renowned astron-
omer who had spent a life-time with
his feet on the ground and his head in
the stars!

These stars were far removed, by
cosmic distances, from those of the
Hollywood variety. Millions of them

The strange being smiled and said: "I am Numar, from the planet Talamaya"

night like this, held more thrills for the
Professor than an unobstructed view
of Dorothy Lamour in her sarong.

Tonight, for instance, September IS,
1943, had been the Annual Meeting
of his astronomical society at which
the good professor had read a paper
entitled, "Are Other Planets Inhab-
ited?" It had proved to be the sensa-
tion of the evening.

"I contend," the Professor had
stated, "that there may be millions of
other worlds containing forms of life
and intelligent creatures far beyond our
present evolution. In time to come,
through our development of rockets and
control of atomic energy, we may be
able to build space ships and explore,
not only the moon, but planets like
Mars and Venus. This will no doubt
lead to the discovery that conditions
necessary to life here may not be re-
quired for the type of life evolving on
other worlds. You gentlemen of sci-
ence must then be prepared to revolu-

tionize or to scrap your previous the-
ories."

The Professor's address had led to
spirited controversy and the furor he
had caused was still on his mind as he
drove down the mountain in his car
with his wife, Nellie.

"What do you think, dear?" he
asked, a bit timidly.

"About what?" said Mrs. Bailey.

"About the possibility of life on other
planets?"

"I don't think much of it," said his
down-to-earth spouse. "If you want
my frank opinion, I don't think you
helped your reputation, giving a talk
like that! They probably think you're
'bats'."

Professor Bailey almost steered his
car off the road.

"But, Nellie, I'm as certain that other
planets have life on them as I am that
I am sitting here beside you!"

The car motor suddenly coughed,
sputtered and stopped. They were

AMAZING STORIES

rounding a steep decline on the road
to the valley below. Professor Bailey
applied the foot brake and grabbed the
emergency. The car lurched and came
to a stand-still on a precipice overlook-
ing the twinkling lights of the entire
San Fernando Valley.

"William ! For goodness sake ! " said
Mrs. Bailey. "Get your mind off those
stars and pay attention to what you're
doing or we won't even inhabit this
planet!"

pROFESSOR BAILEY had no me-
chanical inclinations. He fussed
with the starter but the motor wouldn't
respond. He got out of the car, lifted
up the hood and gazed helplessly at the
inert mass of metal.

"It's no use," he announced. "I
wouldn't know what's gone wrong in a
million years. You sit right there,
Dear, and I'll find some place along
here with a telephone. I only hope
there's a garage open this time of
night."

Professor Bailey put the hood down
and took a pocket flashlight from the
car compartment. The night air was
chilly.

"Better turn your coat collar up,"
admonished Mrs. Bailey, "and don't
get off the road. You know what a
poor sense of direction you have."

The Professor nodded and looked up
at the stars. They seemed to be laugh-
ing at him.

"I don't know why this had to hap-
pen to me," he said, ruefully. "Just
make yourself comfortable. I'll get
back as soon as I can."

Playing his flashlight before him, the
Professor continued down the winding
and perilous road which led from
Mount Wilson Observatory to the
towns far below.

Ah! There was a light— a kind of
luminosity— but it was off the road

quite a distance. The Professor hesi-
tated. Should he venture that far off
the highway? He peered about him.
This was the only light in evidence, the
only sign of habitation. There seemed
only one thing to do and Professor
Bailey did it. He found himself push-
ing through underbrush and clamber-
ing around shadowy cliffs, keeping his
eyes, the while, on this spot of light
ahead.

"Heavenly days!" he said. "It's
further away than I thought. I doubt
if these people will have a telephone
line after I get there. Now where am
I and how can I get back to the road?"

The Professor looked about him,
squinting through his eye glasses. He
was not far from a clearing of some
sort but he was turned around. Let's
see — the road was over here? No —
it was over there! Hold on — that
couldn't be right! Now, wasn't this
distressing!

There wasn't any sense in standing
still. It was too cold for that. If he
could only retrace his steps, get down
this embankment.

A stone turned under the Professor's
heel and he got down — head first!

1_TE LAY on his back and saw all the
stars of the universe. He felt
strangely dazed and tried hard to get
his bearings.

There was the North Star in its same
old place. Very reassuring, or was it?
What in the name of the spiral nebula,
Andromeda, was this? That huge sil-
ver cigar, glowing at both ends, which
was coming down out of the sky!

It was just above the tree tops now
— and it was going to settle in that
clearing. The thing was making a
strange humming sound. It was about
the size of a small submarine.

"What won't those airplane com-
panies build next?" the Professor won-

THE GREEN MAN

dered. "I never saw anything like this
before — not even in Buck Rogers!"

The silver cigar was making a verti-
cal descent now, like an elevator. If he
wanted to see it land, he'd have to
climb up on that rise of ground. There
she was— hovering over the clearing as
daintily as a humming bird. Her mo-
tors—if that's what they were— gave
forth a musical sound — a kind of a
singing whir.

Oh, oh! Now that was stopped. The
thing had come to rest so easily and
quietly, he couldn't detect the slightest
jar.

"Must be some secret testing place,"
thought the professor. "Guess I wasn't
supposed to see this. Well, I'm here
anyhow and I'm just going to get a
closer look."

He pressed forward toward the clear-
ing, picking his way by flashlight.

Yes, there it was— there was that big
silver thing. But its sides were quiver-
ing and pulsating as though it was alive
— and breathing! Or perhaps it was
the perspiration on the good professor's
glasses. No, he'd wiped them off and
looked again^and the thing was still
inhaling and exhaling. Funny busi-
ness! No flying crew in evidence. No
sound. Just a silver monster, relaxing
on the ground, gasping for breath after
her flight through space.

"Well, this beats me!" said the pro-
fessor, "I thought I'd seen everything
but . . .!"

He hadn't seen everything. The un-
der-belly of this silver spindle opened
as though some unseen force had pulled
a zipper — and a white-robed figure
stepped out.

"Greetings!" said this presence, in a
voice as mellow-toned as any radio an-
nouncer's.

"How do you do?" said the Profes-
sor, a bit doubtfully. "Who are you?"

The figure advanced toward him and

now he saw that it did not appear to be
exactly human. The face was long,
with an abnormally high forehead, and
the skin seemed to be a pale green in
color!

"I — I'm sorry," said the Professor,
backing away. "I — I mean — what are

you?"

The strange being smiled. "I travel
from planet to planet. They call me
Numar!"

Professor Bailey rubbed his chin
nervously and glanced about him.

"If you don't mind, I — I think I'll
be going!"

"And I," said this presence, "am
going with you!"

^jpHE tone of voice was still mellow
but persuasive. On closer examina-
tion, this being could be a member of
the human family — a circus freak of
some sort. But what should he be
doing out here on a mountain side,
dressed in a white robe, and coming to
earth in a new-fangled airship . . .?

"You won't want to be going with
me," said the Professor. "My car— it's
broken down . . ."

"Yes, I know," smiled the figure. "I
observed you as I was nearing the earth
and a little ray from my aerial vessel
stopped your motor. You see, my friend
— while you have been studying the
stars, you, yourself, have been studied,
— and, from afar. I'm sure that you'll
now be pleased to learn you've been
selected to help me perform my mis-
sion on this earth!"

A sudden feeling of panic seized Pro-
fessor Bailey. To think that a little
matter of star-gazing would get him
into anything like this!

"There must be some mistake!" he
expostulated. "I haven't done anything
to deserve this. I don't even believe
this is possible. You're really some-
body from the Douglas Airplane Fac-

AMAZING STORIES

tory, aren't you? Please take off that
mask and tell me what's going on here ! "

An expression of tolerant amusement
brought a brighter green glow to the
face of the strange personage.

"I have been enroute to your planet
for the past three months of your earth
time," he announced. "This is but a
day where I came from — straight
through what you call 'the Milky Way.'
I am a resident of the planet, which
sounds in your tongue something like
'Tal-a-May-a' . . ."

"Incredible ! " said the Professor. "I
must have fallen off a cliff and knocked
myself unconscious. My poor wife —
she's sitting in the car, waiting for me
to return. I fear I'm lost and out of
my mind — and if I ever return to con-
sciousness I still won't know where I
am."

"You are a bit bewildered," said the
Voice. A pale green hand reached out
and took the Professor reassuringly by
the arm. "But I know the way back
to your car. Come, let us go together."

The Professor gave a last look
toward the clearing. Yes, it was still
there — that silver-cigar shaped thing —
only it wasn't breathing any longer. It
hadn't been, since this being had
stepped out of it.

"See here!" demanded the Professor,
getting a sudden thought of great pen-
etration, "if you actually came from
another planet— how is it that you
speak our language?"

"On my planet of Talamaya, we have
a record of all your languages here —
and I mastered your tongue before I
set forth on this little journey."

"Little journey?"

"Yes, a mere trifle of a trillion or so
miles. I'm enroute to planets much
farther distant."

"Please," begged the Professor. "I'm
used to astronomical figures but if
you're who you say you are — what aid

can a poor mortal like me be to you?"

"pROFESSOR BAILEY," said the
white-robed figure, as they walked
along. "You may consider yourself a
poor mortal but in the eyes of the peo-
ple on this earth and your fellow scien-
tists, you are accepted as a man of sci-
ence — a world authority — and you are
to act as my host during the time I re-
main on your planet."

The Professor gasped. "You mean
■ — I'm to introduce you to my friends
—and even — to my wife?"

"Your wife by all means! We're
approaching your car now. It's just
around the next bend."

"Now, hold on — I've been pretty
good-humored about this so far — but I
still can't . . . well, it's unbelievable!
It isn't happening! ... I don't know
what's the matter with me — but if you
think my wife will fall for this ... !"

They stepped out onto the highway
and into the glare of the car headlights.
Professor Bailey now had his first good
opportunity to examine the being who
had taken him in tow.

Yes, the texture of his skin was cer-
tainly green and his features, except
for the elongated head, might have been
that of any man's. A head-dress was
drawn so tightly about the face that
one could not see the color of the hair,
if any. Eyes were exceedingly dark,
almost black— hypnotic in expression.
The figure of this being was perhaps six
feet tall, well-proportioned and power-
ful.

"With a physique like that he could
be a football player," thought the Pro-
fessor. "And the way he grips my arm
— he's real all right. But, if he's who
he says he is — what am I going to do
with him?"

As if in answer to these thoughts, the
Professor's white-robed escort spoke.

"I perceive you still doubt. But I

THE GREEN MAN

am able to offer you proof. Do you re-
call that I told you I had stopped the
motor of your car?"

The Professor gulped and nodded.

"Well, you'll find that it will operate
all right now."

"If it does," said the Professor,
"that'll be proof enough for me! " Then,
after a moment's reflection, "Only I
hope it doesn't!"

When they reached the car, a star-
tled Mrs. Bailey looked questioningly
at her husband.

"Hello, dear!" said the Professor, in-
terested in checking his motor, "I
couldn't find a telephone but, I — well,
this is Mister . . . a . . . Mister . . .?"

"Numar," obliged the white-robed
figure

"Numar," repeated the Professor,
opening the rear car door and gestur-
ing. "Here — climb in — you can have
the back seat to yourself." Then, to
his wife, as he hurried around and slid
in behind the wheel, "Mister Numar
says he's from the planet Talamaya —
wherever that is — but I told him I
wouldn't believe that unless . . .!"

The Professor put his foot on the car
starter. The motor instantly responded.

"Oh, good heavens! He is from the
planet Talamaya!"

"VXTHAT on earth are you talking
about?" demanded Mrs. Bailey,
finding her voice for the first time.
"Who is this Hollywood actor and
what's he doing so far from the lots?"

"He's not a Hollywood actor," said
the Professor, in hushed, awestruck
tones. "And don't let him hear you say
that. You see how this motor's run-
ning? Well, there wasn't anything
wrong with it. He just stopped it from
miles up in the air, so I'd get out of the
car and go for help and come to the
place where he was landing in his space
ship! It's all very extraordinary!"

"Yes, very!" said Mrs. Bailey, "and
if you expect me to believe that, you
must be Mr. Ripley!"

"Dear, you've just got to believe it!"
The Professor set the car in gear and
resumed his trip down the mountain.
"You're a witness to the fact that I
didn't get the car fixed — and yet— here
we go!"

"The motor was probably over-
heated. It would have started up just
the same if you'd never met this man.
Where are you taking him?"

"Darling — he's to be our house
guest!"

"Who says so?"

"He does— he told me we were
picked out of all the humans on this
earth to sponsor him. It's supposed to
be our mission or something . . ."

"Well, of course— now I understand
everything. He's some ismic leader or
cultist who's escaped from an institu-
tion. We'll have to find out which one
— and return him!"

Professor Bailey drove in silence for
some distance. What could he say?
He stole apprehensive glances through
the rear view mirror to see if his "other
world companion" was still with them.
He was. What to do? . . . What to
do?

"If I'd come from another planet, I'd
certainly wish to be treated right,"
thought the Professor. And then the
enormity of this situation began to
crowd in upon him.

If Mister Numar had really come
from the planet of Talamaya — or ANY
planet — it was the biggest news story
in the history of the world I Why, it
was much more important and exciting
than if he, Professor William Roscoe
Bailey, had discovered a new planet
or galaxy! This news would chase the
world war off the front pages and give
everybody something big and sensa-
tional to think about! He must have

AMAZING STORIES

been dazed, actually stupefied, not to
have realized this at once. Here he
was, Professor Bailey, world-renowned
astronomer, most favored among men!
Fate had selected him to play a tre-
mendous role and now it was clear to
the Professor why he had been selected.
When a man of his reputation intro-
duced this heavenly visitor to the world,
Numar would be accepted for what he
was. No doubt Numar had come to
earth for some great and, as yet, un-
revealed purpose. Beings of his stature
didn't go shooting a trillion miles
through space on a whimsy.

"Darling," said the Professor, as he
reached their home, "you've had com-
plete faith in me for the past thirty
years and you must not lose it now.
We're in on the ground floo» of one of
the greatest things that's ever happened
on this earth."

"Oh, stop talking like a Hollywood
ad!"

"But, my dear!" he expostulated,
"don't you see — if I present this space
traveler as my discovery to the world
— it will make me more famous than
having a star named after me!"

r J~ , HE Bailey home was a modest bun-
galow type with a spare bedroom
overlooking a little rose garden, and the
mountains beyond.

"This is your room and the bath-
room's right off here," pointed ' Mrs.
Bailey, in her best frigidaire manner.
"No doubt you'll want to freshen up a
bit after your trip!"

Numar nodded and smiled.

"And I wish you'd remove that green
paint or dye and stop pretending you're
somebody from out of this world," she
continued, in spite of rib-jabbings from
her husband. "I'm onto you, even if
Mr. Bailey isn't!"

"Please pay no attention to her!"
begged the Professor. "My wife's al-

ways been a skeptic. When I wrote my
paper on the size and frequency of sun
spots, she told me I ought to be ex-
amined by a lunacy commission. Even
when my theories were accepted by the
Astronomical Society she said that most
astronomers were just a bunch of near-
sighted old bags."

"Now, William— I didn't say 'bags'."

"Well, whatever it was, dear — it
wasn't very complimentary. And the
way you're acting, what do you sup-
pose Mr. Numar is going to think of
our civilization?"

Mrs. Bailey wasn't in the mood to
uphold the dignity of the human race.

"I don't care what he thinks. As for
me — I'm tired and I'm going to bed."

Professor Bailey coughed apologet-
ically.

"That's a woman for you," he said.
"I presume you have them where you
came from?"

Numar bowed. "Oh, yes — woman
is everywhere in the universe ! "

The Professor looked a trifle disap-
pointed.

"But on our planet," Numar added,
"we have nothing you would recognize
as sex."

"Oh, bosh and tither!" snorted Mrs.
Bailey. "You'd be just as much a man
as my husband if you'd take off that
flowing robe and put on pants!"

The mysterious visitor eyed Mrs.
Bailey with an expression of infinite
patience.

"Pants," he explained, "have not
evolved on our planet. Both sexe3
dress as I am attired!"

"You see, William — it's just as I sur-
mised. This masquerader is some fan-
atic who's trying to start a new cult.
He's attached himself to you because
he feels, with your scientific endorse-
ment, he can attract a big following.
If you sponsor him, you'll be ruined!"

The Professor wore a pained expres-

THE GREEN MAN

sion.

"I'm sorry to have to take issue with
you dear — but I believe in Mister Nu-
mar — and so long as I do, I'm willing
to risk my reputation. You go to bed
and let me worry about this matter."

"All right— but don't say I didn't
warn you!"

Mrs. Bailey stepped inside her room
and slammed the door.

pROFESSOR BAILEY didn't sleep
well that night. He tossed and turned
on the couch in the living room. No
use in going to bed with his wife and
continuing the argument. Besides, it
had been a fatiguing and nerve-shock-
ing evening. But what was he to do
on the morrow? How would be best
to break the news of this momentous
event to an unsuspecting world? The
professor dreamed and saw thousands
of skeptical, scoffing fellow humans,
each of whose faces resembled that of
Nellie, his wife! He was trying to get
away from them all when he was awak-
. ened by someone pounding on the front
door.

"Who is it?" he asked, half asleep,
fumbling with the lock.

"Jamison," said a voice.

"Oh, good morning, Ed ... I got to
bed late last night, I . . ."

"Say, Will — do you know what's go-
ing on in your backyard? There's a
funny looking geek out there parading
around in a white robe — and he's ab-
solutely green!"

"What? Oh! Oh, yes, I know . . .!"

"Did you hear what I said? The
man is green!"

Professor Bailey's tone was slightly
irritable. He never liked being waked
up. "Certainly he's green. That's his
natural color!"

"His natural color! What do you
mean?"

"Just what I say. He's from another

planet. Just arrived last night. They're
all green up there ! "

"Oh, now, come off! Don't be hand-
ing me anything like that, Professor!
I've lived next door to you too long!
What kind of a scientific experiment
is this?"

Professor. Bailey was shivering in
his pajamas.

"No experiment — no experiment at
all. Do you mind if I slip into my bath-
robe?"

Mr. Jamison stepped in the door,
leaving it ajar.

"Listen, Will, my kids are out talk-
ing to that man now. They've been
asking him what movie outfit he's with.
I think myself he's some kind of a Yogi.
But his green skin — that's what gets
me. Never saw anything like it. How'd
he get colored up like that?"

"I haven't the slightest idea," said
the Professor, fastening the bathrobe
around him. "Some difference, most
likely, in his skin pigment. You'll
have to ask him."

"Now, just a minute, Will — just a
minute! Are you expecting me to
swallow your story that this guy's from
another planet?"

A look of defiance came into Profes-
sor Bailey's face.

"I don't care whether you swallow
it or not — it's the truth!",

"Well, I like that!" Mr. Jamison
towered over the Professor. "I came
over here as a friend to find out what's
going on and you try to tell me this
green man is from another world! Well,
I don't believe it. This is too early in
the morning for me to let anyone spoof
me — and if you've turned into a practi-
cal joker at your age, you ought to be
locked up. Good day!"

A CONCERNED Professor Bailey
now started for the rear of the
house but collided with his wife as she

AMAZING STORIES

came down the stairs.

"What on earth is all the commo-
tion?" she demanded, pulling on her
dressing gown. "I've just looked out
the back window and there's a crowd
gathering. Most all the neighbors in
the block and people I never saw be-
fore."

"It's Mister Numar," said the Pro-
fessor. "He's out there."

"William! . . . You've got to get rid
of that man! If you don't, he'll get
you in terrible trouble! "

Mrs. Bailey's eyes flashed something
akin to fire. Professor Bailey saw that
it was hopeless to remonstrate with her.

"Nellie," he said, persuasively.
"There's too much at stake here for
us to be in disagreement. I've just
had a most distressing thought. Perhaps
the reason Mister Numar is up early
and pacing about in our yard is because
he's hungry. I stupidly neglected to
offer him any food last night."

"But how would I know how to feed
a man from Mars?" retorted Mrs.
Bailey.

"He's not from Mars— it's Tala-
maya!"

"Well, wherever he's from. I don't
suppose they ever heard of toasted
cornflakes up there. You'd better go
out and ask him what he wants. It's
hard enough getting a meal for a mor-
tal man like you!"

"Oh, stop it!" said the Professor,
but he softened when he saw a twinkle
in his wife's eye.

TDY NOW, every foot of the- Bailey
backyard fence was taken up by
spectators — men, women and children
of all ages. They were standing on
each other's toes and stretching their
necks to get a better view of this figure
in white with the skin of green. The
personage, himself, did not seem to
mind onlookers. He had stopped his

pacing and was seated on a bright red
garden chair, idly examining a rose
bush.

"I tell you, he's not human!" a
scholarly appearing man was insisting.
"I studied anthropology in school and
there just isn't any Homo sapiens with
a head shaped like that!"

"Oh, they can make a man up to look
like anything in Hollywood!" said a
woman. "But I can't understand what
this freak's doing on Professor Bailey's
premises!"

"I know what he's doing," spoke up
Ed Jamison, who had just rejoined the
throng. "I've been in to see the Pro-
fessor and he claims that bird arrived
here last night from another planet!"

"Oh, yeah?"

"How'd he get here?"

"The Professor didn't say. He got
peeved when I doubted his word. I'll
have to admit, though, I've never be-
fore seen a human being who was
green!"

"Me, either! ... He does look dif-
ferent! . . . Can he talk?"

"I don't know. Let's find out." Mr.
Jamison put one hand to the side of his
mouth. "Hey, Mister! . . . Hey, you!"

The white-robed figure looked in the
direction of the voice.

At this moment, the rear door of the
Bailey house opened and the Professor
appeared. He had his tie in hand and
was just fastening his collar. The size
of the curious multitude stunned him.

"My goodness me!" he exclaimed.

"Come on, Professor — tell us what
it's all about!" shouted someone.

A chorus of voices joined in the de-
mand. The Professor hesitated as the
white-robed figure walked over and
stood beside him. Finally, as everyone
waited expectantly, he cleared his
throat.

"Well, there's very little to say, at
present — except that Mrs. Bailey and I

THE GREEN MAN

are happy to have, as our house guest,
this distinguished personage from a far
off planet. Mr. Numar arrived unex-
pectedly last night. I haven't, as yet,
had a chance to find out just why he
came but I hope to be able to make an
announcement to the press on his behalf
soon. Just now I imagine Mr. Numar
is terribly hungry because he hasn't eat-
en a mouthful of food since he landed,
so if you'll please excuse us . . . ! "

The Professor took his celestial vis-
itor by the arm.

"I shall be glad to join Mrs. Bailey
and yourself for what you call break-
fast," smiled Numar, "but, as for me, I
never eat."

"You never eat?" gasped the Pro-
fessor.

"Did you hear that?" cried a voice in
the crowd.

"Never," repeated Numar. And then,
for the information of all within ear
range, he explained: "On my planet, we
derive such nourishment as we need
from the air and water. That's why
I've been out here in the garden since
your sun rise — getting my fill of air for
the day. And now, if I may have a
glass of water, I'll not require anything
more for the next twenty-four hours."

A hum of surprised comment went
the rounds.

"Can you imagine that! A guy who
can live on air and water!"

"Not me— I'll take fried chicken!"

The white-robed figure with the
green complexion turned toward the
house with Professor Bailey.

"How did you sleep last night?" the
Professor was asking.

"Sleep?" said Numar. "I never
sleep!"

This was enough to set tongues wag-
ging furiously. Was this strange being
who he claimed to be or was Professor
Bailey the unwitting victim of a clever
hoax?

( ' T^ARLING," said the Professor, as
they placed Numar in the guest
chair at the breakfast table. "It's not
going to be difficult to feed Mr. Numar.
All we've got to supply him is plenty of
air and water!"

"After I've prepared ham and eggs
and toast and coffee and rolled oats?"
said Mrs. Bailey.

"It's all completely lost on him," said
the Professor. "He's just informed me.
They don't eat on his planet."

"I suppose the next thing he'll be
trying to tell you is that he hasn't any
stomach at all!"

Numar smiled. "That is correct,
Mrs. Bailey. We Talamayans possess
an organ more resembling a generator.
It takes the elements from the air and
water and converts them into electrical
energy which furnishes us with all the
power we need to sustain life."

Mrs. Bailey sniffed her incredulity.

"William, how much longer are you
going to stand for this kind of non-
sense? Mr. Numar was up early this
morning. He probably went down the
alley to the Hamburger Tavern and
had his fill. But no man is going to be
my house guest and turn his nose up at
my food!"

Professor Bailey controlled himself
with difficulty.

"My dear," he said. "Don't be
ridiculous! You can't feed a man food
who has no stomach. It just isn't being
done!"

"I desire only a glass of water," said
the mysterious visitor.

"Oh, very well!" snapped Mrs.
Bailey. She got up from the table and
flounced into the kitchen, turning on
the water tap.

"You mustn't mind my wife," apol-
ogized the Professor. "She doesn't even
like relatives dropping in unexpectedly.
As it is, I'll have to eat your share of
ham and eggs and toast, even if it kills

AMAZING STORIES

me."

Numar's green countenance ex-
pressed amusement. "It must be an
odd sensation to have a stomach," he
said.

"Not nearly so odd as not having
one," said the Professor. "I don't see
how you're going to get very far on a
mere glass of water."

Numar patted his host's arm reassur-
ingly and the Professor jumped.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, "what was
that?"

"I'm sorry," said Numar. "I forgot
for a moment where I was. You see,
I'm charged with electrical energy. I
must remember to insulate myself be-
fore touching anyone."

Professor Bailey nodded, his eyes
agleam with scientific interest. "That's
amazing, Mister Numar! You must let
me take you to the University — put you
under tests — let my fellow scientists see
you demonstrate your powers."

Before Numar could answer, Mrs.
Bailey appeared with a pitcher of water
in one hand and a glass in the other.

"If water is all you'll have," she said,
"you don't need to stop with a glass
full. This is fresh from the city reser-
voir and there's plenty more where it
came from!"

She filled the glass with a flourish
and set pitcher and tumbler before her
green-complexioned house guest.

Numar raised the glass to his lips.
"You are very kind, Mrs. Bailey. But
you creatures on this planet have not
yet discovered the enormous power in a
drop of water. When you do, you will
eat less and drink more."

"I thought so," said Mrs. Bailey.
"Now it commences to come out.
You're one of those food cultists who
travels around getting people to go on
special fasts and diets. You're pretty
clever alright, but I can see through
you."

Numar made no reply but took a
long draught of the water. A sudden
look of revulsion came over his face.
He began to choke and reached for a
napkin.

pROFESSOR BAILEY, alarmed,

jumped up and whacked him on the
back. He found himself catapulted
against the wall, in a sitting position.
"What on earth . . .!" his wife was
exclaiming.

"My dear Madam!" said Numar, his
countenance a paler shade of green.
"What did you put in this water?"

"Nothing!" said Mrs. Bailey. "Wil-
liam! Get up off the floor! What's
the matter with you two, anyway?"

"Nellie," said Professor Bailey, get-
ting shakily to his feet. "I've just been
struck by lightning. Don't ever touch
that Mister Numar or you may be elec-
trocuted!"

"Stuff and nonsense!" denounced
Mrs. Bailey, now thoroughly aroused.
"What's the matter, Mister Impostor?
Did that water go down your wind-
pipe?"

"That water," said her unwelcome
visitor, "is not pure!"

"Of course it's pure!" retorted Mrs.
Bailey. "What do you suppose the city
puts chlorine in it for?"

"Chlorine!" said Numar. "So that's
what it is!"

"You don't need to worry, Mister
Numar — that chlorine's killed all the
bacteria . . .!"

"And it almost killed me," said
Numar. "We have no bacteria on our
planet. My organism will not assim-
ilate chlorine. I'm sorry to trouble you
but I'll have to have spring water."

"You appear to operate much like a
battery," observed the Professor, help-
fully. "How about distilled water?"

"I believe that would be just the
thing," said Numar.

THE GREEN MAN

"Good," said the Professor. "I'll
have our drug store send over some
bottles." He left the dining room to
telephone the order.

Mrs. Bailey sat studying her strange
house guest. "If you're putting up a
front, it's a mighty slick one," she ad-
mitted. "I can't figure out what your
game is just yet — but I'm warning you
not to carry this thing too far!" As
Numar sat, saying nothing, she eyed
him with growing suspicion. "This
could be a Hollywood stunt to advertise
a hew picture. But if you take advan-
tage of my poor husband this way,
you'll regret it the rest of your born
days."

"Mrs. Bailey," said the personage in
green. "You must believe me when I
tell you I was not born on this planet.
I came here for a purpose, as your dis-
tinguished husband has informed you,
and he has been chosen, of all humans
on earth, to assist me. You can make
it easier for him and for yourself if
you will be good enough to co-operate."

Mrs. Bailey took hold of the arms of
her chair as a feeling of uncertainty
and bewilderment assailed her. "No,"
she said, more to herself than to any-
one else. "I mustn't let myself come
under his spell. He's hypnotized Wil-
liam and now he's trying his wiles on
me. Oh, this is terrible! What am I
going to do?"

pROFESSOR BAILEY came hurry-
ing back into the room. "Your dis-
tilled water is coming right over," he
announced. "I ordered an extra bottle
for the battery in my car. It's run
down, too."

"Thank you, Professor," said
Numar. "Now, please take care of
your own organism. That extra supply
of ham and eggs will give you the en-
ergy you need because we have a stren-
uous day ahead of us."

Professor Bailey took up his knife
and fork as dutifully as a small boy
acting on orders of a parent. His wife
poured twice too much sugar in her
coffee and sat stirring it, with her cheek
muscles twitching.

"Of course, Mister Numar," she said,
"you can change your mind and eat
any time you wish. I should think
you'd get tired posing like that. And
if you really intend drinking that dis-
tilled water, I think you ought to have
your head examined."

Her unwelcome house guest be-
stowed a tolerant look upon her. "I
think you would do well to get some
nourishment, too," he suggested. "I
can foresee that this is not going to be
an easy day for you, either."

Mrs. Bailey gasped in exasperation.
She felt momentarily squelched. How
was she going to save her husband and
herself from this self-assured impostor?
The Professor had been religiously at-
tacking his ham and eggs. The two
ate in uncomfortable silence, feeling the
eyes of their visitor upon them.

"Here, Mister Numar," said the Pro-
fessor, finally. "So stupid of me.
Wouldn't you like to read our morning
paper?" He picked up a copy of the
Los Angeles Times.

"No, thank you. I know all the es-
sential things that are taking place on
your planet. Very few of them are re-
ported in the paper. The rest do not
matter."

Mrs. Bailey gagged on a swallow of
coffee. "I suppose you know what's
going to happen next," she taunted.

"I do," said Numar. "Your door
bell's going to ring!"

He had no sooner spoken than the
doorbell did ring — a long, vigorous,
continued ringing. Professor Bailey
jumped up.

"It's the boy from the drug store
with your distilled water," he said. "He

AMAZING STORIES

should know better. I'll give him a
good piece of my mind ! "

The bell kept on ringing.

"For mercy's sake!" said Mrs.
Bailey, getting to her feet. "He must
think someone is dying for that water! "

The Baileys rushed to the door to-
gether. It was not the boy from the
drug store. It was a bundle of fem-
inine dynamite, one hundred twenty
pounds of blonde beauty, exploding joy-
ously in their faces.

"Hello, Uncle William! . . . Hello,
Aunt Nellie! . . . Surprise! ... I
knew you'd be glad to see me! I just
flew in this morning from New York.
Warner Brothers have promised me a
screen test. Isn't that swell?"

T TNCLE and aunt were almost too
dumbfounded to speak.

"Why, Betty Annabel Bracken!" ex-
claimed Mrs. Bailey.

"Yes, it's . . . er . . . swell about
the screen test," said Professor Bailey,
eyeing his stunning niece apprehen-
sively "But your arrival here, at this
time, is a trifle awkward ... I might
even say — unfortunate . . .!"

"Why, what's the matter?"

"I think, Nellie — you'd better ex-
plain," said Professor Bailey, "while I
get back to our guest."

"Oh, my goodness!" said Betty. "Do
you have other relatives or friends vis-
iting? If that's the case, I'll go to a
hotel!"

"No, dear," said Mrs. Bailey. "We've
got something worse than that. We've
got a gentleman here from another
planet ... or, at least, so he says!"

"Why, Aunty — you're spoofing!"

"No, I'm not, dear! . . . Oh, excuse
me, that must be his distilled water!"

A young man was coming up on the
porch with a package.

"Whose distilled water?"

"The man from Mars . . .!"

"Package for Professor Bailey," said
the boy, edging in between the niece
and the door. "Six bottles of . . ."

"Yes, I know," said Mrs. Bailey.
"Just take them in the dining room to
Mr. Bailey."

"Okay!" The boy passed through
between the two women but came out
again almost immediately, eyes bulg-
ing.

"Gee, Mrs. Bailey — I never seen a
guy like that before. Is he real?"

"That's what / want to know," said
the professor's wife.

A cloud of dust marked the delivery
boy's path from the house.

"Why, Aunty — this is utterly fantas-
tic!" said Betty, stepping in and de-
positing her suitcase. "I'm bursting
with curiosity. When did this space
traveler arrive — and how come — and
everything?"

"Well, Betty," said Mrs. Bailey, "it
happened like this. Our car broke down
last night in the mountains. Your uncle
went to get help and came back with
this mysterious character who calls
himself 'Numar'."

"You don't say! What's he look
like?"

"You'll see for yourself in just a
minute. I've a strong suspicion he's a
humbug!"

"But, Aunty — how could a man like
Uncle William — one of the world's
greatest astronomers — be taken in?"

"Oh, Betty — it's always easy to fool
a scientist. They're looking so hard
for the truth that they can't ever see
anything false!"

"You mean — Uncle actually believes
this man is from where he says he is?"

"I'm afraid he does. And if he goes
on record publicly — he'll be the laugh-
ing stock of this world!"

Betty's big blue eyes became even
bigger. "Why, Aunty — we can't permit
this! Isn't there something we can

THE GREEN MAN

do?"

Mrs. Bailey bit her under lip and
considered. "Yes, there is I" she said,
suddenly. "Something you can do! ...
Betty — you're an actress. You can help
me expose this fakir!"

"Oh, Aunty, I'd love to! But how?"

Mrs. Bailey took her niece confiden-
tially by the arm and whispered in her
ear. "Most every man, whether he's a
fake or not, is susceptible to sex appeal.
If you could only pretend to fall in love
with this Mister Numar and lead him
on — I think it wouldn't take long to
solve his mystery!"

"I don't think so, either," said Betty.
"This'U be fun. Lead me to him!"

/ "J~*HE arrival of the distilled water
had relieved Professor Bailey a
great deal. It was quite a responsibil-
ity caring for his unearthly visitor, es-
pecially since some of his internal work-
ings were so at variance from the hu-
man.

"Feeling better, now?" he asked, so-
licitously, after Numar had imbibed a
full glass of the distilled liquid.

"Very much," smiled the green man.
"I'll function perfectly now for the re-
mainder of the day. By the way —
your niece is a most charming and at-
tractive young woman!"

Professor Bailey stared. "How do
you know? You haven't seen her yet!"

"Oh, yes — I intercepted her thought
as she was coming here from the air-
port, intent on surprising you. I took
a good look at her then. She's a very
clever girl — very!"

"Well, I— I'm glad you think so,"
said the Professor. "I was a little
afraid . . . you see . . . we only have
one guest room."

"Oh, I can just as well stay in your
study. In fact, I'd prefer it. A bed-
room is entirely lost on me. I can read
some of your books' of science while

you sleep."

The Professor regarded Numar, won-
deringly. "Do you really mean it when
you say you don't sleep?"

"I wish I could, sometimes," said
Numar. "It seems to me it would be
a delightful experience."

"You don't eat and you don't sleep,"
pondered the Professor. "You live on
air and water. You look almost like a
human and yet you're not human. Your
body stores electrical energy like a
power-house. You say you've come a
trillion miles through space. This is
almost too much for my brain cells. I
won't feel right until I can have some
of my fellow scientists examine you.
Do you mind if I call a few of them
over?"

"You needn't call them," said
Numar. "They'll be over soon enough
— and so will a host of others."

The Professor looked alarmed. "Oh,
I hope not! My home is so small and
I've always lived here so quietly. I
confess, Mister Numar, that I'm kind
of at a loss exactly as to how to enter-
tain you."

Numar reached out his hand to give
his host another reassuring pat but the
Professor pulled back just in time. "If
you don't mind," he said, "I've already
been shocked enough."

Numar smiled. "You would have
felt nothing," he said. "I had remem-
bered to insulate myself."

There was a slight commotion at the
door. It was Mrs. Bailey.

"Mister Numar," she said. "My
niece has just arrived from New York."

"Yes, dear," said the Professor. "He
already knows it."

"Oh! Then you've told him," sur-
mised Mrs. Bailey. "She would like to
meet you, Mister Numar." Then, with
a touch of sarcasm, "She says she's
never met anyone from another planet
before. May I bring her in?"

AMAZING STORIES

"^UMAR arose from the table and
stood his full six feet. But for the
exceedingly high forehead, he made a
striking figure, his countenance and
long tapering fingers appearing almost
as though they had been cut from green
marble.

"I should be delighted."

"That's most gracious of you," said
Mrs. Bailey. "Then may I present Miss
Betty Annabel Bracken?"

Making a dazzling entrance on cue,
Mrs. Bailey's niece swept into the room.
She stopped short in front of the white-
robed figure, a bit taken aback by his
poise and presence. "How do you do! "
she finally managed, and held out her
hand.

Professor Bailey got to his feet, al-
most knocking over a chair. "Now,
now, Betty! I wouldn't, if I were you!"

But it had already happened. Numar
had taken her hand in his and was
holding it.

"Well, I never!" said the Professor,
and sat down again.

"Aunty's been telling me about you,"
said Betty, as Numar said nothing, only
looking at her from the depth of his
black eyes. "Have a nice trip here?"

"Quite uneventful, thank you."

"You call traveling billions of miles
uneventful?"

"One gets accustomed to it, in time."

Betty squirmed, uncomfortably, and
withdrew her hand. "My, I don't think
I ever would! Why, I just finished
flying from coast to coast . . . that's
three thousand miles, you know!"

"Yes, I know — and it took you
twelve hours. Can you compute how
long it would take me, traveling as I
do, with the speed of light?"

"Whew! That's a sixty-four dollar
question for Uncle William!" laughed
Betty. "I'm no good at figures!"

"I think you are," said Numar, eye-
ing her. "Very much so ! "

"Why, Mister Numar!" gasped Bet-
ty. "You sound almost human!"

The tension was broken, or perhaps
increased, by the ringing of the door-
bell.

"Well, who do you suppose that is?"
said the Professor. "Excuse me,
please." He left the room, looking a
trifle annoyed.

"Won't you sit down?" invited
Numar, gesturing toward a chair as
Betty remained standing staring at him.

"That's the most remarkable make-
up!" she exclaimed. "I don't see how
you did it!"

"Me, either," said Mrs. Bailey.

"Make-up?" repeated Numar. "What
do you mean by make-up?"

"Why, your face, your eyes, your
long head line, those hands — every-
thing. It's wonderful! And that shade
of green. I've never seen anything like
it. It's even uncanny!"

"You earth people are so amusing,"
said Numar. "Everything you can't
understand you think is unreal or arti-
ficial. I am not made up. This is the
way I really am."

Betty's eyes widened. "You mean
you're green like that all over?"

"Why, certainly 1 Aren't you white
all over?"

Mrs. Bailey hurriedly got up to clear
the breakfast dishes. "I think we'd
better change the subject," she said.

pROFESSOR BAILEY was having
his troubles at the door. He was con-
fronted by the chief of police and two
burly officers of the law.

"Professor," said the chief. "I can
hardly believe this about you. But I've
had several reports that you are harbor-
ing a suspicious looking character
here."

The Professor's indignation rose like
the mercury in a thermometer. "Who
told you?"

THE GREEN MAN

"Several neighborhood complaints.
See that crowd gathering outside?" The
chief thumhed over his shoulder.
"Somebody said we should look for a
green man in a white bathrobe. Is any-
one answering that description here?"

Professor Bailey nodded. "I'm afraid
there is!"

"Well, lead us to him!"

"Now, Chief — don't be too hasty!
There're a few things I should tell you
about this . . . er . . . personage.
In the first place, he's not human . . ."

"He's not what?"

"He doesn't belong to our species.
He's not of this world!"

"So that's what he thinks. I get
you ! Then it's the nut house for him ! "

"Oh, no! " The Professor was horri-
fied. "You don't understand. Mister
Numar arrived here last night by space
ship from the planet Talamaya."

"Talamaya! . . . Never heard of it.
Space ship? . . . Say — what're you
talking about?"

"Talamaya's a trillion or so miles
from here," said the Professor, help-
fully. "Mister Numar can tell you
more about it. I haven't had time yet
to . . ."

"Professor, if I didn't know you, I'd
say you were headed for the nut house.
Let me smell your breath. Have you
gone off on an astronomical bender?"

"I'm perfectly sober — and sane — I
hope," said the Professor.

"Well, show us this fugitive from a
distant planet and we'll soon tell you!"
ordered the chief.

"Follow me, gentlemen. Oh, you
don't need to draw your guns. He's,
not dangerous ... at least, he hasn't
been . . . up to now."

Mrs. Bailey and Betty had been try-
ing to trick the mysterious visitor into
some statement which would reveal him
to be what they presumed him to be —

an ingeniously camouflaged human
being, but, thus far, no luck. They were
certainly not prepared for the dramatic
entrance of this blue-coated trio.

"Stand where you are ! Don't move !
We've got you covered! " said the chief.

Numar stood looking into the muz-
zles of three revolvers.

"Whom do I have the honor of ad-
dressing?" he asked.

"Chief of Police Andrews and two
officers of the law," introduced the Pro-
fessor.

"The law," said Numar, and smiled.
"Quaint custom — upholders of the law.
On my planet, we haven't had a police
force for the last ten millions years."

"£UT out that kind of talk!" barked
the chief. "Where do you come
from and what are you doing here?"

"Talamaya is my home planet but
I'm on an extended tour of the universe.
I've stopped here to deliver a message
to you earth people. When I've done
that, I'll be on my way!"

"This all sounds like double-talk to
me. Professor — I'm going to have to
take this gent to the station-house for
a questioning. We'll wash that green
paint off him, too! ... Don't worry!
We'll get onto his skin game!"

"If you do," said Mrs. Bailey, "I
wish you'd let us know what it is. We
haven't been able to find out."

Numar, apparently undisturbed,
turned aside to Professor Bailey. "You
still believe in me?" he asked.

"Well, yes," said the Professor.
"After what I've seen— unless my
senses are tricking me . . . ! "

"That's fine," said Numar. "Then,
if I'm to accompany these courageous
representatives of law and order, would
you mind coming along and bringing a
bottle of distilled water? It might be
a bit difficult for me to convince these
gentlemen that I really need it. And

AMAZING STORIES

I shouldn't like to have to cause them
any trouble or inconvenience." -

The Professor picked up a quart bot-
tle which the chief immediately
snatched from him.

"So that's what this guy has been
drinking!" he said. "Looks like wood
alcohol to me! Sure, we'll take this
along — for evidence!"

"Well, Mister Numar," said Mrs.
Bailey. "I can't exactly say I'm sorry
to see you go. You've certainly upset
this household no end since you at-
tached yourself to the Professor last
night. But I must say, you seem to
be a gentleman. I hope things don't
go too hard for you."

"Oh, Aunty!" said Betty. "We're
going to the station-house with Mister
Numar. I wouldn't miss this for the
world!"

"You're going, I'm not," said Mrs.
Bailey. "I've got these dishes to do
and the day's marketing. We've still
got to eat whether Mister Numar does
or not."

"All right, you!" said the chief. "Get
moving!"

"You first, gentlemen," said Numar,
nodding toward the door.

"What do you mean 'us first'?"
snapped the chief. "You're under ar-
rest. Lay hands to him, boys!"

The blue-coats advanced upon
Numar who raised his hands. "I'd ad-
vise you not to touch me," he said,
quietly.

"So would II" said the Professor.

"Oh, you would, would you!" roared
the chief. "Well, just for that, put the
handcuffs on him!"

Each officer grabbed an arm and
each officer, just as quickly, turned a
backward somersault.

"You see what I mean?" said the
Professor.

"What's the matter with you men?"
demanded the chief.

"You handcuff him!" said the first
officer to regain his feet. "I feel like
I'd been kicked by a mule!"

"Now, gentlemen," said Mrs. Bailey.
"I've had enough of this kind of busi-
ness. If you want to wrestle with
Mister Numar, please take him outside
to do it!"

The chief held the handcuffs and
looked testily at the green man. Numar
smiled and extended his hands, with
wrists together.

"You would like to try?" he asked.

"Now, that's more like it," said the
chief and touched the handcuffs to
Numar's wrists.

^JpHERE was a blinding flash, like a
short circuit, and the chief of police
of La Canada, suburb of Los Angeles,
in the state of California, came down
on the top of the Bailey breakfast table.

Only Numar remained unmoved.

"You see what I mean?" said the
Professor, again.

"You first, gentlemen," said Numar,
and nodded toward the door.

The chief and his two police officers
needed no further invitation. They
were only too glad to precede their
prisoner who walked serenely after
them, but turned at the doorway to
extend his apologies to a speechless
Mrs. Bailey.

"I regret very much this had to hap-
pen," he said. "But, fortunately, you
had gotten your nourishment out of the
meal. I suggest you rest up while we
are gone. There is still a strenuous
time ahead."

"Good heavens!" moaned Mrs.
Bailey. "Don't tell me you have any
intention of coming back!"

pROFESSOR BAILEY was proud of
his little house and yard. He had
spent much time fussing with the front
lawn. There was a young avocado

THE GREEN MAN

tree which he counted on for shade in
his declining years. Then there was a
lemon tree which had three green lem-
ons on it at this very minute. The
hedge which lined the walk was the pro-
fessor's pet. He trimmed it himself
once a month and chased stray dogs
from it.

Now, as Professor Bailey stepped out
onto the front porch behind the three
police officers and Numar, he suffered
his greatest shock of the day. Jt looked
as though every man, woman and child
in town was parked in his front yard.
Boys had shinned up his avocado tree
and were hanging to the groaning limbs.

"Look!" they shouted. "There he
comes ! There's the green man ! "

The crowd pressed forward, strad-
dling the hedge in many places and
trampling it. The turf of the lawn had
already been scruffed up. The patrol
car by the curb had proved a strong
magnet. But the word-of -mouth of the^
neighbors had done the most damage.

"Stand back, everyone!" ordered the
Chief. "This man is a dangerous char-
acter. Don't anyone touch him. He's
got some kind of an infernal machine
on him. It's liable to kill you out-
right!"

The curious mob backed away and
tramped the hedge some more.

"Please, my good people!" appealed
the Professor. "Watch what you're
doing! . . . Boys, get down out of that
tree!"

"Aw, gee, then we can't see!" said
the smallest. "Gosh, is he gonna ex-
plode or somethin'?"

It was no use. The only way to dis-
perse the crowd was to get Numar away
from there as quickly as possible. The
police had made a lane for him down
the sidewalk to the car and were wait-
ing for Numar to join them. Betty ap-
peared on the porch and took the Pro-
fessor's arm.

"Uncle William," she said. "I'm
going with you!"

"No, dear," said the Professor. "Po-
lice stations are no place for a girl like
you!"

"Just the same, I'm going," declared
Betty. "You're not going to face this
ordeal alone."

Professor Bailey had learned through
years of experience not to argue very
much with a woman. Besides, he had
more pressing things on his mind. Nu-
mar was descending the steps and walk-
ing with an undeniable majesty toward
the patrol car. People pressed as close
to him as they dared and the bigger boy
in the tree reached down to touch him
as he passed. This was his instant un-
doing. He let loose a surprised howl
and landed in the crowd, taking three
elders to earth with him.

"Good work!" said the Professor, in
an undertone to Numar. "He shouldn't
have been up in my tree, anyway!"
Then to the awe-struck crowd, "Keep
away, everybody! Didn't you hear
what the Chief said? This man is dan-
gerous!"

'"jpHE way the spectators began to
leave the Professor's yard brought
joy to his heart until he saw the ruin
they left behind. Mrs. Bailey was
standing on the porch surveying the
same sorry spectacle.

"You people ought to be ashamed of
yourselves," she called after them
"You can see better freaks than this
at any dime museum. Now go on
home!"

But no one paid any attention. They
were all in the street, jamming around
the patrol car and trying to look
through the small high windows.

"Goodbye, Aunty!" cried Betty, as
Chief Andrews helped her into the car
"Don't worry about Uncle. I'll take
care of him for youl"

AMAZINS STORIES

The siren sounded a warning and the
car scattered the crowd in front of it.
Then those who had autos of their own
ran to them to follow the police car to
the station.

Ed Jamison, next door neighbor, am-
bled up the sidewalk, kicking crumpled
empty cigarette packages and chewing
gum wrappers out of his way. He
stooped to pick up a broken piece of
the hedge and eyed Mrs. Bailey who
had sunk down upon the proch railing,
her head against a post.

"Well, Mrs. Bailey," said the man
most responsible for this impromptu
gathering. "What do you think?"

"/ think," said Mrs. Bailey, eyes
blazing, "it's a hell of a note ! "

With that she got up, choked back an
angry sob and went into the houfee,
slamming the door.

^JpHE hangers-on at the police sta-
tion, the idly curious, the court at-
tendants, the police captain and his
aides were accustomed to the usual
routine happenings of an average day.
There was the constant parade of
drunks, wife-beaters, sneak thieves,
Tom-the-peepers, con men, street walk-
ers, vagrants and traffic violators. But
never in the history of this or any other
police station had an officer ever
brought in a man who claimed to have
come from another planet! Here was
one case where a man didn't have to
bite a dog to make news. The moment
Numar was arraigned before the in-
credulous magistrate on charges of dis-
turbing the peace and misrepresenta-
tion, the police reporters ran for the
telephone booths to call their papers.

"Gimme the managing editor's desk,
quick! . . . Hey, Chief! Send your
feature writers! Send photographers!
Send everybody There's a guy been
picked up out here who claims he came
a trillion miles through space to visit

this earth! . . . No, I'm not kiddin'!
. . . Well, how can / tell? Sure, he
looks different! . . . He's green! . . .
And besides, Professor Bailey claims
he's the real article . . . Yeah, the as-
tronomer! He's not going to go off the
deep end for nothin'! . . . Well, if it
isn't true, it's great! You get the pitch,
Chief ! He's a cosmic globe-trotter ! "

The stampede was on! Every staff
man and woman the Los Angeles news-
paper offices could spare jumped into a
car and went speeding to the modest
La Canada police station to take part
in perhaps one of the greatest inter-
views of all time. If it was a hoax, it
still had immense news value.

The court room was packed. "Where
is he? , . . Where's Professor Bailey?
. . . Who's got the dope? . . . What's
the low-down? . . Let's see this super
man!" they shouted.

The magistrate, had lost all the hair
on his head, otherwise it would have
been standing on end. He was a nerv-
ous little man and he had just come
from the ante-room where this visitor
from space was being examined. His
face was wet with perspiration.

"Now, just a minute! Be calm,
everybody! . . . This doesn't happen
every day. I confess I'm in quite a
daze myself. The Chief's getting his
story now!"

"Is he on the level?" asked a man
from the Herald-Express.

"He says he is," replied the magis-
trate. "I wouldn't know. But if he is,
he doesn't belong in this police court.
He ought to be in the mayor's office,
getting an official welcome!"

"That's right!" laughed a woman
feature writer from the Times. "This
is a swell place to welcome a visitor
from another world!"

'"jpHE door to the ante-room suddenly
opened and Chief Andrews came

THE GREEN MAN

out, followed by the court stenographer,
Professor Bailey and Betty Annabel
Bracken.

"Hello!" cried a photographer.
"What's that dame doing in this set-
up? Did this guy from another planet
come to see her?"

"Oh, no!" denied Betty, impulsively.
"I'm just Professor Bailey's niece. I
came out here for a screen test and
found that my uncle was entertaining
this Mister Numar!"

"That's swell, Baby!" called a re-
porter. "That gives us a great sex
angle!"

"Oh, but I don't want . . .!" said
Betty.

Professor Bailey squeezed her arm.
"Betty, dear, you'd better let me do the
talking. I've had to deal with newspa-
permen before. They're a bad lot! "

"Yes, uncle," she acquiesced. "But
/ can't help it if I'm photogenic!"

"Now, ladies and gentlemen of the
press," the Chief of police of La Can-
ada, Charlton K. Andrews, was saying.
"I'm about to produce for you what
may be the sensation of the ages. I
wouldn't exactly want to go on record
as stating that I believe this man's
story but I haven't been able to shake
it yet. This is the most baffling case in
my long history of crime detection as
head of the police department in this
great city . . .!"

"Bring on the green man! Cut out
the introduction! Let us judge him for
ourselves!" came a chorus of shouts.

But Chief Andrews was not to be de-
nied his big moment. He had been a
flatfoot for many years and some citi-
zens had even accused him of having a
flathead but he was smart enough to
sense that this might be his one chance
for immortality. Never before had he
been honored by such a distinguished
representation of newspaper people.
He intended to make the most of it.

"As I said before, I'm going to let
you see this person who calls himself
'Mister Numar.' I'm going to let you
talk to him and see what you can get
out of him. But I'm warning you, he's
got some electrical apparatus hidden
on him and he's refused so far to let
me search him. . . . No, don't laugh!
. . . This gentleman may be a fakir
but we can't be too sure. That's why
we've got to go slow. I'm here to tes-
tify that I just touched this man and
it knocked me down. So don't any of
you people get too near him. I'm hold-
ing him on suspicion till I find out more
about him."

"You ought to be a spieler in a side-
show!" joshed a reporter. "Trot out
your electrical robot!"

The Chief stepped to the door and
motioned inside. "Okay, Mister Nu-
mar. You can come out now."

'"PHE Professor and Betty were stand-
ing on the raised platform near the
magistrate's bench. Beneath them every
seat was filled in the little court room
and newspaper men and women and
photographers packed the aisles. Out-
side a crowd lined the corridors and
extended into the street. There was a
moment of curious suspense as all
awaited the appearance of this pur-
ported being from another planet.

Numar's entrance was impressively
slow and stately. He was met by a
popping barrage of exploding light
bulbs as photographers took their first
pictures. He advanced to the edge of
the platform and smiled down at this
earth's most skeptical, sensation-sated
type of audience.

"My greetings to you," he said, and
stopped. They waited expectantly for
him to say more, eyeing him critically
the while — but he did not speak.

"Well, how about it?" called a re-
porter. "What you got to say for your-

AMAZING STORIES

self? What's your racket?"

Professor Bailey stepped forward.
"If I may suggest, this is not the right
procedure to use in interviewing such
a rare and distinguished personage. It
is ignominious enough for Mister Nu-
mar to be held here in a police station
when he should be associating with the
finest men and women of our earth and
receiving the highest honors within our
power to bestow."

"Can we quote you on that, Profes-
sor?" fired a reporter.

"Yes," said Professor Bailey, with a
staunchness which surprised himself.
"You may!"

Numar was studying the array of
faces before him with the interest a
scientist takes in guinea pigs. He did
not seem to mind the air of jocular
skepticism which prevailed. They had
come with the evident intention of put-
ting him on the spot. Now that they
were in his presence, they quite ob-
viously didn't know how to do it.

"I will answer ten questions at this
time," said Numar, graciously. "Per-
haps you newspaper people would like
to get together and decide what you
would most prefer to ask me."

There was an immediate hubbub,
much cussing and discussing among
those assembled. Finally, a group of
reporters emerged, a representative of
each Los Angeles paper and the news
services.

"I've been appointed spokesman,"
announced veteran reporter Steve Hines
of the Herald-Express. "We've got a
list of questions here we'd like to fire
at you."

Numar fixed his black eyes upon the
interviewer and smiled pleasantly.
"You may proceed."

t> EPORTER HINES opened his col-
lar at the neck and got ready for
action. His colleagues had their pen-

cils and notepads ready to record their
impressions of whatever might be said.

"Let's see now — the first thing we'd
like to know, Mr. Numar, is this —
where is your planet of Talamaya lo-
cated?"

"Beyond the reach of your present
telescopes," Numar answered. "Up in
what you call the 'Milky Way.' "

A boisterous laugh boomed out from
somewhere in the back of the court-
room. Numar looked soberly in that
direction. The laughter ceased.

"Well, of course, that's not so very
definite," said the interviewer. "And
there's no way we can really check up."

"Yes, that is unfortunate that your
scientific instruments should be so un-
developed on this earth. However, I
can hardly be held responsible for
that."

"Well, tell us — how did you get
here?"

"By space ship."

"Space ship, eh? What was the mo-
tive power used?"

"Electro-stellar-magnetic."

Someone whistled and a murmur ran
through the court-room as pencils scrib-
bled.

"Where did you land upon arrival?"
continued reporter Hines.

"In the mountains — not far from
Wilson Observatory."

"That's quite unusual," speculated
the interviewer. "Why did you choose
this remote place for landing rather
than one of our airports?"

Numar was standing erect on the
platform, his arms folded across his
chest, looking down at his interrogator.

"Because there were magnetic prop-
erties in the mountains which I needed
for landing purposes." Then, with a
friendly glance toward the professor,
Numar added: "And because I wished
to make contact with Professor Bailey
who was nearby."

THE GREEN MAN

All eyes sought out the Professor
who bowed, a bit self-consciously.
Betty took his arm and put her head
against his shoulder, with a "my hero"
expression. It impressed one of the
photographers who snapped a picture.
Betty acted annoyed in a pleasant sort
of way. But Numar easily held the
center of the stage.

"Where is your space ship now?" the
veteran Hines was asking.

"In the mountains, where I landed,"
said Numar, simply, "awaiting my re-
turn."

This caused a ripple of comment and
an excited woman reporter jumped up
on her chair. "Oh, Mister Numar —
that's thrilling! Will you let us see
and examine this aerial vessel?"

Numar, amused, turned to reporter
Hines and inquired: "Was this one of
the ten questions you wished to ask
me?" His quiet authority and de-
meanor was something a hardboiled
newspaper fraternity had not, hereto-
fore, encountered.

"Why, yes, it was I mean — it is!"
stammered Hines, as everyone nodded
in assent.

"I am sorry," said Numar. "You will
not be permitted to see or examine my
space-ship. Its construction is beyond
your comprehension. Inspection of it
would only confuse and discourage you
in your evolution, For this reason, it
has been rendered invisible."

pHIEF OF POLICE ANDREWS
had been sitting on the arm of the
magistrate's chair. "Can you imagine
that?" he whispered. "If that guy's a
fake, he's got the world's greatest line!"

"He certainly knows all the answers,"
said the magistrate. "It will take a
pack of Philadelphia lawyers to pin
anything on him!"

It was apparent that the newspaper
people did not like Numar's evasive re-

marks about his space ship. They had
been given some fancy run-arounds be-
fore but this was being done so smooth-
ly and easily that over half their al-
lotted questions had been asked and
they had gotten nowhere.

"Do you expect us to believe your
last statement?" demanded interviewer
Hines, in a tone of exasperation.

"No," smiled Numar, "but I'm just
as confident you can't refute it!"

Hines jerked off his tie and threw it
on the floor. "Come on, now, Mister
Numar ! Let's quit shadow-boxing and
get down to cases. We're all hard
working people. We didn't come out
here on a wild goose chase — or did we?
... If you're really a bird from an-
other planet, what is your purpose in
coming here?"

"That's the first sensible and signifi-
cant question you've asked me," said
Numar. "I came here to deliver a mes-
sage of great importance to you earth
people. At the proper time I intend to
present this message over every radio
station in the land and from Chicago."

"Chicago!" Every person in the
room rose up at this. "Why Chicago?
. . . What's the matter with Los An-
geles? why can't you deliver your mes-
sage right here?"

"Because," said Numar, and now he
had everyone hanging on his words and
what he was saying was being relayed
out into the corridors and down into the
street. "Because," he repeated, "Chi-
cago is destined to be the new capital of
the United States and the commercial
center of your world. It will eventually
be the headquarters for the Peace
League of All Nations. I'm interested
in the future of your planet, not its
past. Therefore I shall address you
earth people from Chicago!"

Jj^T last, this mysterious personage
had said something specific. At

AMAZING STORIES

last he had given these self-exalted
members of the press something they
could hang their hats on. To be sure,
there was no proof whatsoever that he
was who he said he was or that he had
come from where he said he had. But.
if this green man, fake or not, really
intended to say something to the hu-
man race from Chicago or Timbuctoo,
this was a story worth headlines in any
newspaper. After all, the scientists
would probably get hold of this Numar
person soon enough. Let them worry
about whether he was genuine or not.

"I believe," said Numar, as pencils
scratched furiously, "that you are en-
titled to one more question."

Interviewer Hines excitedly consult-
ed his notes. "Oh!" he said, "oh, yes!
Here it is, Mr. Numar. Can you an-
swer this? How long do you intend to
stay on earth?"

Numar smiled. "That," he said,
quietly, "will be determined by devel-
opments."

It is a wonder that some reporters
were not killed in the rush to grab all
available telephones and call their stor-
ies in to their papers. A few remained
behind with photographers to pose Nu-
mar in company with different individ-
uals.

*Chief Andrews," directed one cam-
era man. "We'd like to get a shot of
you putting the handcuffs on Mister
Numar. We want to run a picture with
the heading, 'Police Chief Captures
Man From Another Planet' . . ."

"It's a cute idea," said the Chief,
"but I'm not going to put any hand-
cuffs on that man. I'm not even going
to stand too close to him. Not after
the shock /got today!"

The magistrate stood up. "Oh, now
Charlie. I don't think Mister Numar
would object. Let me get in this pic-
ture with you." He reached out and
took Numar by the arm.

"Look out!" cried the Chief.

But nothing happened.

"I'd be delighted to pose with you
gentlemen," said Numar.

The magistrate chummily retained
his hold of Numar's arm but Chief An-
drews kept his distance.

"Well, I'll be damned!" he said. "I
can't understand this!"

OROFESSOR BAILEY and Betty
stood off at one side watching pro-
ceedings.

"Uncle, this is terrible!" said Betty,
"taking Mister Numar's picture with
people like that! You're the one who
ought to be photographed with him ! "

"Hush, dear," said Professor Bailey.
"I'm not seeking any notoriety. My
front yard is ruined now! I'm just
afraid of what's going to happen next! "

"I'm not," said Betty. "And I think
you're just plain foolish if you don't
take every advantage of this great op-
portunity. / would, if I were in your
place. Why, just think, Uncle! Who-
ever is photographed with Mister Nu-
mar will get his picture all over the
world!"

"Yes, I've thought of all that," said
the Professor. "But I'm not so sure
now that I . . .!"

"All right, Professor, you're next!"
called the camera men. "That's all,
Chief! . . . Move over, Judge. Give
the Professor a break! "

Professor Bailey raised his hand,
protestingly. "Now, gentlemen, I ap-
preciate this but, if it's just the same to
you . . ."

"Go on, Uncle!" said Betty, giving
him a push.

"Snap it up, Professor!" directed the
camera man. "We gotta be getting
back to town with these to catch the
first editions. We want a shot of you
shaking hands with that guy!"

Professor Bailey looked up at Numar

THE GREEN MAN

apprehensively. "Is the . . . er . . .
current turned off?" he whispered.

Numar nodded, amused wrinkles
showing in his face, and held out his
hand. The Professor took it, gingerly,
an awesome expression on his face.
Flash light bulbs exploded.

"That's great!" said a camera man.
"That's a honey! Professor, you
looked then like you'd just discovered
a new star!"

"I hope you don't use it," said the
Professor, uneasily. "I never take a
good picture, anyway, not even when
I'm posing with Nellie."

The photographers consulted one an-
other. Betty tried to catch their eyes.
She didn't have much trouble because
they were just getting ready to turn
their attention to her.

"Now, Baby, it's your turn. You
know the newspapers can't get along
without sex appeal. We can always
get the picture of a pretty girl in the
paper when we can't get anything else.
So we want a shot of you kissing this
man from the Milky Way."

^HIS was more than Betty had bar-
gained for. Numar's face remained
green but hers turned red.

"Why, the very idea! " she exclaimed.

"Come on, Baby! You don't object,
do you, Mister Numar? Don't they
kiss on your planet?"

"No, they do not. This is going to
be a new experience for me."

Betty felt her knees go weak. Pro-
fessor Bailey gave her a little shove.
"Go ahead, dear," he said, a bit imp-
ishly. "Remember— you said this was
a 'great opportunity!' "

"Gee! Gosh!" said Betty, under her
breath. Then, to Numar: "Do you—
a— really want to try it ? "

Numar nodded and held out his arms.
The Professor had a moment of sudden
panic.

"On second thought," he said, "I
guess you'd better . . . ! "

But Betty was advancing toward Nu-
mar, her eyes fixed upon his, like some-
one walking a tight rope. Numar's arms
clasped about her.

"You — you don't have to do this if
you don't want to," she said, uncer-
tainly.

"I think this will be very interesting,"
said Numar.

The photographers pointed their
cameras and lifted their flash bulbs.

"That's the way!" directed one of
them. "Pucker up your lips, Mister
Numar! . . . What's it gonna be-— a
Clark Gable or a Charles Boyer?"

Numar looked aside, inquiringly. "I
don't understand," he said.

"Oh, those names are movie actors,"
explained Betty, nervously. "They've
each got a technique all their own."

Numar smiled down at her. "I sup-
pose, after all, this is quite an individ-
ual proposition."

"Yes, I— I suppose so!" said Betty.

Chief Andrews nudged the perspir-
ing magistrate. "I wouldn't be in that
guy's arms for a million dollars!"

Professor Bailey moaned to himself:
"I don't know what possessed me.
What will Nellie say to this?"

The camera men were growing im-
patient.

"Hey, you two! Cut the conversa-
tion and give us some osculation!
Come on, Baby! Relax! Don't act
like you're taking poison! Let's see
some love-light in your eyes! Act like
you meant it! Maybe this'll get you
your screen test!"

This was all Betty needed. She shut
her eyes as the green lips of Numar de-
scended upon hers.

The room had filled with other spec-
tators and some reporters who had re-
turned from phoning in their flash stor-
ies. They broke into whistles of ap-

AMAZING STORIES

plause as the clinch was held and cam-
era shutters clicked.

"Okay, you can break now," called
the camera men. But Numar's lips
were still pressed against Betty's. "Hey,
break it up! Cut! Will Hays won't
like this!"

JgETTY disengaged one arm and be-
gan to gesture frantically in the di-
rection of Professor Bailey.

"Oh, dear! Oh, my!" said the Pro-
fessor, dancing around the two. "Some-
thing must have happened! Chief!
Somebody! Do something! . . . May-
be she's being electrocuted!"

"Don't touch 'em!" warned the
Chief.

Betty's imploring gestures continued.
Photographers hastily reloaded their
cameras and shot more pictures.

"This is the hottest thing since Ru-
dolph Valentino!" said one.

"Pretty good for a first kiss!" said
another.

"Mister Numar!" begged Professor
Bailey. "Perhaps you don't know, but
on this planet, there's a limit to such
things!"

Betty was now growing wild. She
had gotten both arms free and was wav-
ing them behind her.

"Phone the electric light company!"
yelled the Chief. "Something's gone
wrong with this guy's electrical appa-
ratus! He's got a hold of her and he
can't let go!"

There was pandemonium in the
court-room. This wasn't funny any
longer. It was a field day only for the
photographers who kept on shooting.

"My, God, how she can take it! " said
one of them.

"You mean— how he can dish it
out!" said another.

"Get a pulmotor!" cried the Chief,
now beside himself.

"Get an ambulance!" shouted some-

body else.

The clock on the wall had been tick-
ing off not seconds, but minutes. All
marathon osculation records had long
since been broken.

The officer in charge of the police
radio came rushing upstairs. "Chief!"
he cried, "there's been a bank robbery
and my radio set's gone bad ! I'm get-
ting powerful interference!"

"There it is!" said the Chief, point-
ing at the embraced couple. "That's
what's doing it! We daren't touch
them till the circuit's broken!"

"Well, how'm I going to contact our
radio cars?" demanded the officer.

"One thing at a time ! " said the Chief.
"We're in worse trouble here!"

Professor Bailey had waited, praying
ardently that this greatest of all clinches
would be broken without injury to
either party. But now it was high time
something was being done.

"I'll just have to risk it! " he decided.
"It may be the death of me but those
electrical forces have got to be ground-
ed!"

gO saying, he courageously took hold
of a radiator pipe with one hand
and grasped one of Betty's hands with
the other. There was a crackling flash
of blue flame and Numar and Betty
shot apart. The Professor landed in a
sitting position on the platform, with
Betty on top of him. Numar staggered
back, almost fell, and leaned against
the bench for support. The magistrate
had tipped over in his swivel chair try-
ing to get out of the way, and Chief
Andrews only escaped by a mad leap
in the opposite direction.

"Betty, are you all right?" asked the
Professor.

Betty was looking dazedly around.
"My, how that man can kiss!" she said.
"It was just like an electric shock. I
felt millions of little needles running all

THE GREEN MAN

through me. I just couldn't get away.
And right there at the last, when you
grabbed my hand, that photographer
should have been more careful. His
flash light bulb went off right in my
face!"

"That wasn't a flash light bulb," said
the Professor. "That was a flash of
electricity when I broke the circuit. I
can feel it in my joints yet! "

The two were still sitting on the floor,
surrounded by a pop-eyed crowd.

Numar, looking a pale green, came
over to them. "I'm sorry," he said.
"I had no idea my system would react
this way. I temporarily lost control of
my magnetic forces. I hope, Miss
Bracken, it was not too great an ordeal
for you."

"Well," said Betty. "It was one I'll
never forget!"

"Nor shall I," said Numar. "I now
have a new custom to take back to my
planet."

"If you feel like standing," 'the Pro-
fessor suggested to Betty, "I believe I
would like to get up off the floor."

Numar extended his hand to help
Betty to her feet. "No, thank you!"
she said, and scrambled up by herself.

"Don't you touch anybody else! " or-
dered Chief Andrews. "I'm going to
put you under lock and key and have
some electricians search your person.
You must have yourself all rigged up
with electrical gadgets. As long as
you're walking around like this, you're
a menace to society!"

"A search will avail you nothing,"
said Numar. "Besides, I will not per-
mit it."

"We'll see about that!" snapped the
Chief. "You're not going to make a
sucker out of me after all my years in
this department!"

^jpHE officer in charge of the police
radio had run back to his instru-

ment in the room below. Now he ex-
citedly reappeared. "Say, Chief — the
radio— it's working all right again. Car
Number Ten has picked up the trail of
the bandits. They're in a high-powered
car going east on Highway 66!"

"That's good," said the Chief.

"No, it's bad," said the officer.
"They're being out-distanced. But
they've got the license number. It's
9W-7448!"

"Would you like me to stop the ban-
dits' car for you?" asked Numar, show-
ing sudden interest.

Chief Andrews was startled. "What
was that? . . . What did you say?"

"I said," repeated Numar, "that I'd
be glad to stop the bandits' car if you
like. I feel somewhat responsible for
the bandits getting away since I inter-
fered with your radio."

"But how can you stop their car?"
demanded the Chief.

"He can do it," assured Professor
Bailey. "He stopped my car when he
was coming in for a landing in his space
ship!"

"May we go downstairs to the radio
room?" requested Numar.

"Sure, sure ! " said the Chief. "Make
way, everybody! Clear the room!
How did all of you people get in here,
anyhow!"

There was a general rush for the
stairs and the same crowd tried to jam
into the small radio room as the officer
in charge sought to make contact with
Car Number Ten.

"Car Ten," he called. "Hello, Jake!
Are you still on their tail? Come in!"

There was a slight sputter of static
and then Jake's voice was heard.
"Yeah! But they're gaining on us.
We can't keep 'em in sight much
longer!"

"M"UMAR was standing just behind
the radio operator. He faced the

AMAZING STORIES

east and a distant look came into his
eyes. Professor Bailey and Betty were
nearby in company with the Chief. A
small coterie of reporters and photog-
raphers had attached themselves to Nu-
mar on regular assignment. They were
competing now with every member of
the police department on duty at the
station, including the janitor, for an
opportunity to witness this mystery
man's latest gyration.

"Don't press too close" warned the
Chief. "This guy's as full of juice as a
high voltage line. If that secret ap-
paratus he's carrying stops that car,
I'm going to turn him over to the F.B.I,
as a dangerous alien ! "

Numar was apparently concentrat-
ing. "9W-7448," he was repeating,
under his breath. His green eyelids were
closed, concealing his piercing black
eyes. "Oh, yes," he said, suddenly. "I
see the car now. Three men in it. One
in the back seat has two satchels full
of bank money. Speedometer reading
is 78 miles per hour!" Numar stopped
talking, eyes still closed, and put out
his right arm with pointer finger extend-
ing as though touching something.

The radio officer was keeping con-
tact with Car Number Ten. "Hello,
Jake! How you making out now?"

"They're slowing down," Jake re-
ported. "Something's happened! Maybe
they're running out of gas. They're
pulling up beside the road. Now they're
jumping the car. Looks like they're
going to shoot it out. Stand by ! We're
closing in!"

Numar remained motionless but his
face wore an interested expression as
though he were seeing what was taking
place. His features relaxed into a smile.
He opened his eyes. "The bandits
threw down their guns," he informed.

"We've got 'em!" came Jake's voice
by short wave. "It was a cinch! They
tossed their guns in the ditch. We've

recovered the loot, too. . . !"

"Just a minute!" broke in Chief An-
drews. "Ask Jake, 'how come the ban-
dits stopped their car and gave up'?"

This question was repeated and there
was a temporary silence on the radio.

"Tell the chief," said Jake's voice,
"the motor went dead. They don't know
what the hell went wrong with it.
They've got a tank full of gas."

"Well, that's the dangedest coinci-
dence," said Chief Andrews, "that I
ever ran into. At least I hope it's a
coincidence! ... If it isn't. . . !" The
Chief began to look alarmed. "Profes-
sor, on second thought, I think I'll re-
lease this human dynamo in your cus-
tody. You're responsible for him from
now on. Take him away with you ! "

"But what will / do with him?" asked
the Professor.

"That's your affair," said the Chief.
"You found him, didn't you?"

Numar now stepped forward. "Chief
Andrews is right," he said. "We have
finished our business here. I have been
interviewed by the press and stories of
my arrival will soon appear in the pa-
pers. I suggest we return to your home
and await further developments."

Professor Bailey appeared greatly
distressed.

"Just a minute!" said a man in the
crowd. "I'm a talent scout for M.G.M..
I'd like to put you under contract! "

"^"UMAR eyed the important appear-
X> ing gentleman. "What's M.G.M.?"
he asked.

The gentleman's face turned purple.
"You — an actor — and you don't know
M.G.M.? Brother, do you need an
agent?!"

Numar seemed entirely unimpressed.

"You're kidding, of course," said the
man. "Everybody's heard of M.G.M.!"

"I should say they have! " said Betty,
"although / came out here to take a

THE GREEN MAN

screen test for Warner Brothers ! "

The talent scout eyed her up and
down. "Well, you might have some-
thing at that. I came in on the tail end
of your clinch. Are you and your boy
friend working together? I'll put you
both under option ! "

Betty's eyes glistened. "Oh, Mister
Numar!" she exclaimed. "Did you hear
that? We can be in pictures! Aren't
you thrilled?"

Numar shook his head. "I doubt very
much," he said, "if my services would
prove satisfactory. But I foresee a
great future for you!"

"You do!" cried Betty, delighted. "I
could kiss you for that!" She started
impulsively toward him.

"Now, don't start that again!" bel-
lowed Chief Andrews. "Get out of
here, the lot of you ! What a day ! I'm
going to make application to retire on a
pension!"

The talent scout followed Professor
Bailey, Betty and Numar to the street,
as did the crowd.

"Your name and address, Miss?" he
requested.

"I'm Betty Annabel Bracken, she
gave answer. "You can reach me at
Professor Bailey's. He's my uncle."

"That's fine," said the man. Then,
turning to Numar. "Where are you
stopping, sir?"

"Where Miss Bracken is," smiled
Numar.

"Great grief!" said the Professor,
"what am I in for now?"

An empty taxi passed by and the
Professor hailed it. Anything to get
away from this curious throng which
had been dogging their footsteps and
growing in size! The taxi driver missed
Professor Bailey's signal but Numar
raised his hand and pointed toward the
cab. It stopped half way down the
block, in the middle of the street. The
driver jumped out, raised the hood, and

began tinkering with the motor. Traf-
fic piled up behind him and car horns
commenced an impatient honking.

"Your cab is waiting," observed Nu-
mar.

The Professor, startled, gave Numar
a knowing look. "Oh! Oh, yes!" he
said, "Come on, Betty!" He took her
by the arm and the two with Numar
made their way toward the stalled taxi.
"Let us through, please!" called the
Professor as they proceeded. "Don't
touch Mister Numar, anybody, or you'll
get shocked! Let us through to that
cab!"

r p , HEIR way was barred by an ema-
ciated looking middle-aged man in a
wheel chair. He was being pushed by a
stout-armed, stout-figured nurse who
shouted at Professor Bailey.

"Let us through, yourself! Do you
think you're entitled to the whole
street?"

The invalid cupped a hand to his
ear. "What's that, Miss Pratt? What'd
you say?"

The crowd parted and the figure of
Numar loomed suddenly in front of
him. The sight of a green man in white
flowing garments was too much for the
wheel chair oqcupant. He thrust out
his hands, instinctively, to fend off this
apparition, and thereby received the
shock of his life. It was such a shock,
in fact, that his body, stimulated as it
had not been in years, rose out of the
wheel chair. He suddenly found him-
self standing on the side-walk.

"Look!" he cried, to all around him.
"Look ! I've been cured ! I can walk ! "
He took a few faltering steps and his
nurse collapsed in the wheel chair.

"Holy smoke" shouted an eye-wit-
ness. "That green man's a healer ! "

"It's a miracle!" the former invalid
kept repeating. "I've been paralyzed
for eight years — and now, look! I can

§6

AMAZING STORIES

walk!"

"For heaven's sake!" gasped the
Professor. "Keep moving, Mister Nu-
mar! Once this word gets around,
everybody will be wanting to touch
you ! We've got to catch that cab ! "

Reaching the taxi, Professor Bailey
jerked open the door and pushed Betty
inside.

"Hurry, Mister Numar, hurry!" he
begged.

As Numar climbed in, the cab driver
looked up from under the hood. His
face was smeared with grease and he
had a screw driver in one hand.

"I can't take you people!" he
shouted, irritably. "Can't you see my
car's broke down?"

There was the sound of a police
whistle down the block. Chief Andrews
and two officers were pushing through
the mob to find the cause of the traffic
jam.

"I think," said the Professor, in a
mild tone to the driver, "if you'll get
back in your cab, you'll find it will run
all right."

"Oh, you do, do you?" roared the
driver, slamming down the hood.

"Push that taxi over against the
curb!" yelled the approaching chief of
police. "Professor! What are vow do-
ing out there? . . . Now what are you
up to?"

"It's all right!" reassured the Pro-
fessor, getting in the cab. Then, to the
irate driver who had slid into his seat
behind the wheel. "Try your starter.
See if it works ! "

The driver touched the starter with
his foot. The motor turned over at
once. He shifted into gear and shot off
down the street.

"Well, I'm a monkey's uncle!" he
said.

But Chief Andrews was using more
colorful epithets as he got caught in the
back-wash of the crowd and the snarl of

untangling traffic, which was hot on the
Professor's trail.

"My, it's almost time for lunch!"
said the Professor, drawing a breath
of momentary relief. He reached for
the bottle in his pocket. "Mister Numar
— will you have some more distilled
water?"

"I think I will," said Numar, taking
the bottle. "After my experience with
Miss Bracken, I feel strangely de-
pleted!"

J.JOME may have been the place of
refuge for the common man but
the happy, time-worn phrase, "a man's
home is his castle" no longer applied to
Professor Bailey's domicile. It was a
place of siege by all and sundry, for
notoriety had descended upon him with
the clinging persistency of a California
fog. He hadn't built a better mouse-
trap, he had hardly opened his trap at
all, and yet the world was beating an
ever more widening path to his door!
Not only the front, but also the back.

As for Mrs. Bailey — she had been
brought up to believe that "a woman's
place is in the home" but she now fer-
vently wished it might be anywhere else.
When Professor Bailey returned home,
bringing his white-robed and green
complexioned friend with him, Mrs.
Bailey took him aside to give him a
piece of her mind which he had not had
before.

"William Roscoe Bailey!" she said.
She never addressed him this way ex-
cept at such times 'when the distance
between them was astronomical. "What
in the name of common sense and sanity
do you mean by this? Why didn't you
leave this monstrous fraud with the po-
lice? You are getting yourself in so
deep you can never get out. And what's
more, you've gotten Betty involved.
That girl's so excited she can hardly
talk!"

THE GREEN MAN

"I don't agree with you there," said
Professor Bailey. "Betty never wants
for something to say and she usually
says it just when it will do her the most
good!"

"Why, how can you talk about my
sister's child in that manner?" said
Mrs. Bailey.

"My dear," said the Professor, his
expression pained and apprehensive.
"You don't know your sister's child.
She's so movie-struck she will do any-
thing to get in pictures. And that girl
knows the value of publicity. I may as
well warn you that you're apt to be
shocked when you see the afternoon
papers. Betty put on what amounted to
a kissing exhibition with Mister Numar
for the photographers ! "

"She did what?" asked Mrs. Bailey,
unbelievingly.

"You see," explained the Professor,
"Mister Numar had never kissed any-
one before . . ."

"For pity's sake!" exclaimed Mrs.
Bailey. "How disgusting! And you let
her do it?"

"Well, it all happened so suddenly,"
said the Professor, lamely, neglecting to
mention that he, in a weak moment,
had urged Betty on. "I really didn't
think she'd go through with it."

"You mean to say the papers are go-
ing to print pictures of her kissing that
green-faced baboon?" demanded Mrs.
Bailey.

"I presume they are," said the Pro-
fessor. "And I might describe them, in
advance, as being extremely torrid. In
fact, some unfortunate complications
developed. This kissing experience al-
most wrecked Mister Numar. Once he'd
started kissing Betty, he couldn't let
go."

TV/TRS. BAILEY was getting more
horrified by the minute. "Don't
tell me! Where was all this going on?"

"In the police station."

"The police station! Of all places!
Oh, this gets worse and worse! And to
think that I. . . ! " She was going to
say that she'd encouraged Betty to
make love to Numar, but decided it
best not to incriminate herself.

"The reason Mister Numar couldn't
let go," said the Professor, " was on ac-
count of his magnetic forces. They
seemed to have a strong affinity for
Betty. If it hadn't been for me, the two
of them might have been electrocuted! "

"Oh! So you're in these pictures,
too!" said Mrs. Bailey. "Well, why
didn't you say so in the first place!
That's what you're really worried
about. A man in your profession! I
don't want to hear any more! The front
doorbell is ringing, so is the telephone,
and someone's pounding on the back
door! I'm not going to answer any of
them. I'm going upstairs, lock myself
in my room, and leave you to get out of
this mess yourself!"

"Now, Nellie!" called the harassed
Professor. "Won't you listen to rea-
son?"

"Reason!" she said, as she ran up-
stairs. "Just look at the crowd outside !
Try your reasoning out on them! "

The Professor crept to the front win-
dow and cautiously peeked out. What
he saw was enough to strike fear and
concern in many a stout heart. It
looked like all the lame, the halt, and
the blind in LaCanada and neighboring
communities had been assembled in the
yard and street! Numar was supposed
to be in the study. He could hear his
wife upstairs talking in a loud voice to
Betty. The ringings and the poundings
on doors continued. He could hear feet
shuffling about on his porch and faces
began to be pressed against window
panes.

Seized with a sudden feeling of panic,
Professor Bailey rushed to the tele-

'311

AMAZING STORIES

phone. He placed the receiver against
his ear.

"Hello!" said a voice. "Is this Pro-
fessor Bailey's residence?"

"Yes it is!" said the Professor.
"Please get off the line. I want to call
the police!" He jiggled the phone and
disconnected the party, then hurriedly
dialed the police station. "Give me
Chief Andrews! . . . Tell him it's Pro-
fessor Bailey ! " He waited, with grow-
ing tension, until the Chief's voice came
on the wire.

"What is it now?" said the Chief.

"Send the riot squad!" begged the
Professor. "My house is surrounded!
I don't dare go to the door. People are
trying to get in. I guess they think
Numar's a miracle man. Hurry, Chief !
I can't hold out much longer!"

"All right!" said Chief Andrews.
"We'll get there as fast as we can. But
if this keeps up, we'll have to have a
bigger police force!"

'"JpHE Professor hung up the receiver
and began barricading his front and
back doors with furniture.

"Hey, Professor Bailey!" insistent
voices were calling. "We know you're
in there! Answer the door! We want
to talk to you ! Let us in ! "

The Professor retreated to his study,
a little room on the first floor on the
rear right of the house. There he found
Numar seated, in his easy chair, quiet-
ly reading one of the Professor's own
books, entitled: "Astronomy Made
Simple."

Numar looked up and smiled. "This
book is properly titled," he said. "Of
course you earth people cannot be ex-
pected to know much about the universe
as yet."

"Mister Numar," said Professor
Bailey. "I'm sorry to interrupt your
reading but we seem to be facing a seri-
ous crisis and it's all because of you!"

"Yes," said Numar, "it always hap-
pens this way."

"What do you mean?"

"I always cause a stir when I arrive
on any new planet. I can never fore-
tell what kind of a stir. That depends
upon the nature of the inhabitants."

The clamor outside was becoming
more and more audible and insistent.

"Well, I don't know about life on
any other planets," said the Professor.
"But I think you should know, Mister
Numar, that the human creature is still
highly superstitious. I'm afraid even
now those people out there have gotten
the idea that you're a great healer."

Numar put the book aside and stood
up. "But I'm not," he said. "We have
no need of healing on my planet. These
bodies of ours are constantly replen-
ished by magnetic currents derived
from air and water."

"Just come with me and take a look
out the front window," said the Pro-
fessor.

As they stepped into the hall and
walked toward the living room, tele-
phone and doorbell were ringing. The
Professor took the receiver off the hook
as he passed.

"You see how easily our conveniences
can become a curse," he remarked.

Numar observed the heavy daven-
port propped against the front door.
Someone was turning the door knob as
well as ringing the bell.

"You see what I mean?" said the
Professor. "That would be quite dis-
turbing in time."

Numar nodded, with an expression
of amused sympathy. But when he
stood behind a window curtain and
looked out, his face sobered. Pressed
to the front of the crowd were men,
women and children in pitiable states
of physical distress. Some were blind,
some were on crutches or canes, some
were in wheel chairs, some were in arms,

THE GREEN MAN

but all reflected some condition of in-
validism or injury. Behind and around
these surged a sensation-seeking, curi-
ous crowd. But just at this moment the
attention of all had been captured by an
incredibly frail little man who stood be-
side an empty wheel chair.

"^S GOD is my judge, folks! " he was
saying, "I didn't know who this
man was. I just saw him coming to-
ward me in his white robes and I
reached out and touched him — and look
what happened to me ! " He lifted each
thin leg in turn and raised his equally
thin arms. "Anyone want to buy my
wheel chair?"

There was a mixture of laughter and
applause.

"No," said a man on crutches, "All
we want is a chance to touch this man
like you did!"

"That's all!" shouted a chorus of
others.

"You say this man's from another
planet?" queried a woman who looked
to be arthritic. "I'll be willing to be-
lieve it if he helps me!"

"Sure! He must be from another
planet!" said a lame woman next to
her. "You can't touch any human
and get cured. Most humans would
give you something worse!"

Professor Bailey looked sidewise at
Numar. "What are we going to do
with these people?" he asked. "Maybe
there is something to what you did
for this man. Our medical science is
now curing different types of cases with
electrical shock treatments."

"Yes," said Numar. "A few might
benefit by contact with the currents
which pass through my body — but they
would get the same results from the
treatments you speak of."

"But how are we going to convince
them of that?" asked the Professor,
pointing out the window. "Just listen

to how they are talking!"

The voices of those outside around
the porch could be plainly heard.

"How much does he charge to let you
touch him?" a nervous-appearing wom-
an who had elbowed her way forward
was asking.

"Nothing, I guess," said a little bent-
over man with a crook in his neck.
"At least not yet — but he may have to
— if people keep coming like this. . . !"

"Well!" said the woman, decisively.
"We've got to him first. He ought to
let us touch him free!"

"Do you hear that?" said the Pro-
fessor. "You'd better go back in my
study and hide till the police come.
Get in the closet, if necessary. Please
hurry! It sounds like they're going to
break the door down ! "

"I will do as you request," said Nu-
mar, quite calm and undisturbed.
"Don't worry too much, Professor.
Things always turn out all right."

"That's easy for you to say," the
Professor called after him. "But you
haven't lived on this planet as long
as I have. You should see what hap-
pens at a bargain sale! And these peo-
ple have the same look in their eyes
right now!"

JgETTY came running down the
stairs. "Oh, Uncle! You must
open the door! That M.G.M. talent
scout is out there. I just saw him. He's
lost his collar and tie trying to get
through the crowd ! "

"If I ever open that door, I'll lose
more than that," said the Professor.
"You get back upstairs with your
aunt!"

"Oh, Uncle! Isn't this thrilling! I
wonder if they saw my pictures in the
papers?"

"Yes," said the Professor, irritably.
"I suppose this whole crowd's come out
here to get a sample of your kisses!"

AMAZING STORIES

"Uncle William! You're a horrid
old man ! " said Betty. "Why this tele-
phone receiver's off the hook ! No won-
der I didn't get my call from Warner
Brothers! How do you expect I'm going
to get anywhere in pictures this way?"

"Damn you and the picture indus-
try!" said Professor Bailey. "I'm losing
my home and my reputation and my
sanity — all at the same time!"

The telephone started ringing. Betty
leaped for it.

"Hello! . . . Trouble?" She eyed
the Professor. "Yes — plenty! ... Oh
—on this line, you mean? . . . Well,
it's all right now. Thank you, Opera-
tor — please do!" Betty turned to her
uncle, holding the receiver to her ear.
"The operator said she had over fifty
calls — some of them very important—
and I'll bet at least half a dozen were
from Warner Brothers! ... If I miss
my chanee getting into pictures just be-
cause . . . Oh! . . . Hello! . . . Yes
* . ■ who? . . . who? . . . The Los An-
geles Chamber of Commerce? . . .
Are you sure you have the right num-
ber? . . . Professor Bailey? ... Oh,
just a minute! " Betty motioned to Pro-
fessor Bailey and held out the receiver.
"It's President Hammond of the Los
Angeles Chamber of Commerce," she
said. "Please don't stay on the wire
long. Operator says there's another call
waiting!"

"You stay away from that door,"
warned the Professor, as he took the
phone, "and keep an eye out for the
police."

Betty busied herself with her make-
up. "There're photographers out there,
too!" she said.

"Hello!" said Professor Bailey into
the phone. "Yes? ... Yes? ... Oh!
You've just seen the papers! . . . Chi-
cago? . . . That's right! . . . Mister
Numar did say he was going to deliver
a message in Chicago! . . . Well, now,

Mr. Hammond— I am loyal to Los An-
geles but there doesn't seem to be any-
thing I can do . . . Yes, I see your
point . . . Well, I'll speak to Mister
Numar. No, I can't call him to the
phone . . . He's very busy just now
. . . we're all busy. . . ! Excuse me,
Mister Hammond. I hear the police
siren. The police are coming! Thank
you very much for calling. Goodbye! "
The Professor put the receiver down,
leaving it off the hook.

/^"HIEF of police Andrews had ar-
rived in a squad car with three of-
ficers. He made a lane through the
crowd and delegated his men to get the
people off Professor Bailey's front
porch.

"What's going on here?" he de-
manded.

"We're waiting to see the green
man," said a self-appointed spokesman
who had been ringing the doorbell.
"He's got wonderful healing powers.
All you have to do is touch him and
you're well!"

"I touched him once," said the Chief,
"and I haven't felt right since! You
people are nuts! Now, go on! Get
away from here! Go home— and let
Professor Bailey alone ! "

"No, no!" came a chorus of shouts
from the crowd. "We're not leaving
till we see the green man ! "

Chief Andrews had a rolled up news-
paper in one hand. He left his three
officers to hold the crowd in check and
banged on the Professor's front door.
"Open up! Let me in!"

The door opened to admit him and
closed quickly behind as some of the
crowd evaded the police officers and
dashed up on the porch.

"You see," said Professor Bailey,
moving the davenport back across the
door. "You just got here in time."

Chief Andrews laughed. "You don't

THE GREEN MAN

need that thing blocking the door, now
I'm here."

"I'm not so sure," said the Profes-
sor.

"Now, Uncle!" said Betty. "I have
perfect faith in Chief Andrews." She
gave him a commending look. "Chief,
did you notice that M.G.M. talent
scout? I think you could safely let
him in."

"You can't safely let any of that mob
in," said the Professor. "Now, Betty,
I'll thank you if you'll keep out of the
way!"

"Why — I'm only trying to help!"
said Betty.

"Like you did at the police station!"
said Chief Andrews. "Trying to steal
the limelight! Where do you come off
at, posing with Mister Numar? You
certainly look pretty in the paper, you
do! " He slapped the rolled copy of the
Herald-Express with the back of his
hand.

"Oh!" cried Betty, reaching out and
snatching the paper. "Have you got a
copy? Oh, let me see it! Thank you
very much!" She already had it un-
rolled and was scanning the front page.

"Oh, Uncle — here it is!" She read
the bold headlines. " 'Mystery man ar-
rives from another planet. Green man,
Numar, guest of Astronomer Bailey.
Claims to have traveled here in mys-
terious space ship. Has message for
world to deliver from Chicago. Police
are investigating claims . . .' Why,
there's a two column story about it!
And it says here there is a full page of
pictures on page six!" Betty was all
thumbs as she tried to find this page.

"Now, you're really going to see
something!" said Chief Andrews.
"You're going to see what an ass you
made of yourself — and what we all did,
for that matter!"

Professor Bailey looked disturbed
and bewildered. "Oh, did the pictures

turn out as badly as that?"

"I'll say they did!" fired the Chief.
" Numar' s not in any one of 'em!"

"\\7^HAT'S that?" The Professor
looked over Betty's shoulder as
she reached page six. "Oh, my good-
ness! . . . Oh, my dear! Well, great
heavens! Oh, good grief !"

"Why, Uncle" gasped Betty. "How
could this happen? Why, there's just
blank ' spaces where Mister Numar's
supposed to be! How could he do a
thing like that? Why didn't he photo-
graph?"

"That's what we all want to know!
said Chief Andrews. "Look what the
paper says about it!" The Chief
pointed to the main heading and a
paragraph over the pictures. It read:

MAN FROM ANOTHER PLANET
—WHERE IS HE???
Our photographers swear they
snapped him in all these pictures but the
elusive Mister Numar didn't show up
on the negatives. Yes, we are doubting
our own senses, too. Here's a case where
seeing isn't believing. Numar appears
to be the most baffling trickster and es-
cape artist since Houdini. The police
are investigating but his real identity
is still unknown.

"Now look what they say about this
picture!" said the Chief. He pointed
again, and the dazed Professor Bailey
and Betty read:

WHAT'S WRONG WITH THIS
PICTURE?

LaCanada's Magistrate Taylor and
Chief of Police Andrews look as though
they are proud and happy to be posing
with Mr. Numar — but their distin-
guished guest from another planet has
pulled the good old disappearing act.
What a cruel prank to play upon two

AMAZING STORIES

unsuspecting upholders of the law.

"Well, I never!" said the Professor.
"Never in my born days. This is very
unusual. Very ! "

"It gives me goose pimples!" said
Betty. "Oh, look, Uncle. There you
are, standing all alone, with a silly ex-
pression on your face, looking at noth-
ing!"

Professor Bailey stared at the photo-
graph In utter disbelief. He shook his
head from side to side as he read the
editorial comment about it.

HELP US SOLVE THE MYSTERY
In this photograph, the eminent as-
tronomer, Professor W. R. Bailey, who
would not be party to a hoax ( or would
he?) is here supposed to be shaking
hands with his visitor from the planet
Talamaya. But, where is this visitor?
From the look on Professor Bailey's
face and from the blank space beside
him, Mr. Numar is still seemingly mil-
lions of miles away — and the good pro-
fessor is merely shaking hands with
himself.

'""jpHIS is all completely beyond me,"
said Professor Bailey. "I can't
comprehend it."

"Nobody can," said the Chief. "But
you haven't seen anything yet! Just
get a load of little Miss Sex Appeal and
what this Numar did to her!"

The lower half of the page contained
six striking action photographs and
when Betty got a glimpse of them she
began shrieking.

"Oh! Oh! . . . Oh! . . . Oh, how
could he? Why, that's terrible! Just
look, Uncle He's ruined me! ... Sim-
ply ruined me! ... I can never look
the world in the face again!"

The Professor was looking. He re-
moved his glasses, rubbed them briskly
and put them on again. He saw the

same thing, only more of it.

"Just a minute, now, Betty. Don't
jiggle the paper so ! Let me see what it
says. Here — let's read it together."

They scanned the lead comment and
the descriptions under each picture.

GENTLE READER— WE CALL
UPON YOU TO STUDY THIS
SERIES OF AMOROUS CONTOR-
TIONS!

In these pictures, screen aspirant
Betty Annabel Bracken is supposed to
be introducing the "green" Mr. Numar,
visitor from Talamaya, a planet a tril-
lion miles from here, to the good old
human art of kissing. The photogra-
phers swear that Numar sizzled and
burned like an over-done steak and
couldn't let go of Miss Bracken until
Professor Bailey grounded his electrical
charges through an innocent radiator
in the room. But again— WHERE is
Mr. Numar? And what is Miss Bracken
doing — osculatory acrobatics by her-
self?

LET US ATTEMPT TO INTER-
PRET THESE PICTURES FOR
YOU!

These photographs graphically depict
Betty Bracken in what appears to be a
romantic embrace.

In picture No. i, her head is tilted
back, lips puckered and eyes closed,
with just the proper expression of awe
on her face. But do you see anyone
kissing her? If you do — please write
or wire us at once!

Picture No. 2: Betty's face is regis-
tering surprise and fear. She seems to
be trying to pull away from something
— yes, something apparently shocking!

Picture No. 3: This reveals Betty
obviously NOT enjoying herself too
much. Her lips looks slightly mashed
as though there is some pressure against
them. She is bending backward from

THE GREEN MAN

the waist — probably about to execute a
back-bend!

Picture No. 4: In this shot, Betty is
definitely signalling for help with one
hand behind her.

Picture No. 5: Betty now has two
hands behind her and is waving them
semaphore fashion. The letters she is
spelling out are undoubtedly S.O.S.!

Picture No. 6: Professor Bailey to
the rescue! He has grabbed one of
Betty's hands and she and the Pro-
fessor are sailing through space as
though propelled by some invisible
force.

QUESTION: Where was the man
from that other planet who was sup-
posed to have been kissing Betty all
this time??? Was she in reality just
kissing the atmosphere and had every-
one been hypnotized by the mysterious
Numar? COULD BE— say the sci-
entific experts. There MUST be an
explanation! Do YOU have one? The
eye of the camera doesn't lie — or does
it? The camera men swear they hadn't
§een drinking— but they're probably
out drinking NOW !

"I'll never get over this," sobbed
Betty, "not as long as I live! These
pictures will go all over the world!"

"I thought that's what you wanted,"
said the Professor.

"This isn't funny, Uncle William.
'Hollywood won't look at me now. No-
body will!"

"My dear girl," said Professor
Bailey, "I'm afraid you don't know
human psychology. If these pictures
don't attract attention to you — none
ever will!"

JDETTY stopped crying at once and
took another look.
"Well, just the same," she compro-
mised, feelingly. "I think we should
sue Mister Numar or something. That

was a very ungentlemanly thing for him
to do!"

"I suppose the other papers, when
they come out, will be just as bad, if
not worse," Professor Bailey said,
aside, to Chief Andrews.

"You can count on that," said the
Chief. "There's only one explanation
for what happened. We were hypnotized
—the whole gosh-darned bunch of us.
And that goes for the photographers,
too. We just thought we were posing
with Numar. He was probably sitting
off to one side, just having a big laugh
at our expense!"

"That sounds quite likely," said the
Professor, greatly pained. "Dear, dear!
This is getting more and more compli-
cated."

Professor Bailey," queried the Chief,
point-blank. "On the level now, just
between us, who is this fellow, Numar,
and what are you trying to put over
with him?"

"I give you my word," said the Pro-
fessor. "I don't know any more about
him than you do but I did see him land
in his space ship." He hesitated a mo-
ment as a sudden disturbing thought
struck him, and then added, "Or at
least I think I did!"

"That's just the point!" emphasized
Chief Andrews. "This nonsense has
gone on long enough. It's high time we
were getting hold of this Numar and
putting the heat on him. I don't enjoy
being made a fool of any more than you
do!"

Betty had been looking out the win-
dow. She now began tapping the pane
and gesturing.

"What are you doing?" called the
Professor.

"It's the'M.G.'M. talent scout," ex-
plained Betty. "He's arguing with the
police officers. He's got his coat off now.
Uncle William, if you don't let him in,
I'm going out to see him. That's no

AMAZING STORIES

way to treat a man of his importance ! "

Betty ran to the door and began to
tug and push at the davenport.

"Chief," said the Professor. "You
have my permission to do your duty!"

"It's a pleasure!" said the Chief.
"Now, young lady, you sit down on
this davenport with your back to the
door and forget Hollywood for five min-
utes! Your uncle's got enough on his
mind without having to worry about
you!" He turned Betty around and
gave her a compelling push. She sat
down and stayed there.

^NGRY shouts now came from out-
side and it was evident that the
crowd, steadily increasing in size, with
many newcomers waving newspaper ac-
counts of Numar, was on the verge of
getting out of hand.

"Where is Numar?" demanded the
Chief. "We'll have to do something and
do it quick!"

Professor Bailey rushed to the study
and found Numar sitting quietly, eyes
fixed on the ceiling, with a trance-like
expression in them. The Professor
called but got no response. He ran over
and reached out his hand to touch this
strange house guest but thought better
of it.

"Numar!" he shouted. "Wake up!
I thought you never slept!"

Numar's eyes moved, the glassiness
began to disappear. He straightened
up and looked at the Professor.

"I have not been asleep," he said. "I
have been in a higher state of conscious-
ness — communicating with my planet,
Talamaya. Some important work is
awaiting me there when I return from
my trip — a hundred years from now."

"Oh, stop it!" said the Professor,
greatly perturbed and annoyed. "That
kind of talk isn't going to get you any-
where on this earth. There're several

hundred human creatures outside and
more coming every minute, who want
to communicate with you right here and
now! And they won't take 'no' for an
answer!"

"Very well," said Numar, rising.
"I'm at your service."

Chief Andrews met them in the hall.
"What I could say to you wouldn't look
good in print," he flung at Numar.
"But we can't go into that now. Your
public is calling! They're demanding
a personal appearance!" The Chief
eyed Numar's figure, suspiciously. "Are
you really here — or aren't you?"

Numar smiled. "I'm very much
here."

"Well, you'd better be! And no
more shennanigans ! Those people out
there are expecting to touch you and
get cured of everything from falling
dandruff to housemaid's knee!"

"I've already explained to Professor
Bailey," said Numar, "that I have no
healing powers. However, I do possess
certain magnetic forces."

"I know what you possess," said the
Chief. "You possess some new-fangled
electrical machine which you've hidden
somewhere under those flowing robes.
We'd find it soon enough if you'd let us
search you. But I'm advising you now
to junk that apparatus before you cause
any more trouble!"

"I can control these electrical forces,
by an effort of will, so no one can feel
them," said Numar.

"Then you get busy and do it!" or-
dered the Chief. "Go out there and
let some of these fanatics touch you!
When they don't get shocked — then
maybe they'll go away and leave you
alone!"

r jpHERE were sounds of scuffling on
the porch and a banging on the door.
"Here they come!" said Betty. "Can
I get off the davenport now?"

THE GREEN MAN

"Unlock that door, Professor. Give
me a hand with this davenport. Yes,
Miss Bracken, you can get off. How
do you think we can lift this with you
on it? . . . Remember, Numar, no
funny business ! I'll go out first and try
to calm 'em. You come after me, and
for the love of Pete— don't turn on the
juice!"

Professor Bailey turned the key in
the lock and the door swung inward.
One of the police officers who had been
guarding it sat down heavily with two
men and two women on top of him.

"Hold on, everybody!" called the
Chief. "Numar's coming out to see
you!"

A cheer went up from the crowd.

"Well, it's about time!" shouted a
disgruntled soul.

"But you folks'll have to line up,"
the Chief directed. "No rushing or
stampeding. Clear the porch, every-
body! Get back! You'll all get a
chance to see him!"

Even with this reassurance, people
fought to get some front position or
vantage point as the Chief called for
Numar. At his appearance, there was
a mighty surge forward.

"There he is! Let me touch him
first! . . . That's no fair, I've been
waiting longer than you have! . . .
Stop pushing! . . . Oh, I'm being
crushed! . . . Touch me, Mister Nu-
mar! . . . Touch me! ... I want to
be healed! ... Let me through to
him! I know he'll cure me!" These
and many more utterances came from
the throats of the frenzied mob.

Numar was caught in the human
swirl and carried bodily off the porch
despite the herculean efforts of the three
police officers and Chief Andrews, who
were being badly mauled.

Professor Bailey watched this unbe-
lievable spectacle from his porch, feel-
ing as helpless as an eye-witness of a

tornado. These pent-up feelings and
desires of the lame, the halt and the
blind had to be satisfied. Each of them
feared they would somehow not be
given opportunity to make personal
contact with this mysterious personage
whose curative touch had earlier healed
the man in the wheel chair.

Mrs. Bailey watched the scene from
her upstairs window and called down,
anxiously, to her husband. "William!
Don't stand' there! Do something! If
you don't, there won't be anything left
of Mister Numar! Look! They're
trying to tear his robe off! Oh! that's
awful! They shouldn't treat anybody
like that!"

Numar was certainly in the thick of
it. He was apparently putting up no
defense, permitting himself to be buf-
feted about. His face, however, had
an indescribable expression. One
couldn't tell what he must be thinking.
After the first mad rush had spent it-
self, those who had touched him began
to compare notes.

"I didn't feel anything, did you?"

"Not a thing. And I've still got my
rheumatism!"

"My back isn't any better, either."

"Where's that guy in the wheel chair
who said Numar had cured him?"

"I don't believe he did!"

"Hey, you! What kind of a game is
this?"

'"pHE frail little man; singer of Nu-
mar's praises, who had offered to
sell his wheel chair, was now surrounded
by angry, disappointed, sick and weary
men and women.

"You told us we'd feel an electric
shock and be cured! Well, we haven't
— and that never happened to you!
You've been imagining things!" *■

"But I did feel something!" the frail
little man of the wheel chair protested.
"You've got to believe me! I did feel

AMAZING STORIES

it! - And it cured me! ... I couldn't
walk and it cured me!"

His statements fell on deaf ears. Dis-
illusionment and bitter disappointment
showed darkly in many faces.

"That green man's a faker!" charged
a hunchback on crutches. "He's prob-
ably paid you to testify for him. He
ought to be arrested!"

"Yeah — he's a phony, if I ever saw
one! He and Professor Bailey ought
to be locked up for perpetrating a
fraud!"

Numar had remained standing in
the dead center of this human turmoil.
His flowing robe was still intact despite
the hysterical efforts his former wor-
shippers had made to tear it from him.
This, in itself, was unusual but not so
much, perhaps, as the fact that he had
not yet uttered a word. He faced the
wrath of his accusers with a quiet poise
and dignity which seemed strangely
out of character with their charges.

At this moment an automobile pulled
up at the curb and a man and woman
jumped out. The woman was carrying
a three-year-old daughter in her arms.

"Oh, I hope we're not too late!" she
was heard to say.

Her husband took her arm and pi-
loted her through the sullen crowd.
They had eyes only for the white-robed
figure. As they came into his presence,
the anxious mother looked up at him.

"Oh, Mister Numar ! We read about
you in the paper — that story or how
the invalid in the wheel chair touched
you and was cured!"

"That's true!" said a voice, nearby.
"I'm that man, lady. As God is my
judge!"

The woman was oblivious to the
murmurs of skepticism and indignation
which swept through the group sur-
rounding her.

"Then, Mister Numar," she ap-
pealed, "perhaps you would touch my

little girl and make her well again. She
hasn't been able to move her right arm
or leg since she was taken sick a year
ago. My husband and I have taken her
everywhere and spent all our money —
but it's no use!"

The blue eyes of the little girl were
gazing up into Numar's deep black
ones. He smiled down at her with a
look of great warmth and tenderness.

"You're green!" said the little girl.

Numar put out his hand and stroked
her right arm, gently.

"Oh!" exclaimed the child, "That
tickles!"

She pulled her arm away.

"John!" cried the mother. "Oh, John
— did you see that! She moved her
arm! ... I can't believe it. . . ! She
moved her arm! "

The child never took her eyes off
Numar's. "Tickle me some more," she
said, and laughed.

^"UMAR'S green hand passed lightly
down, in a stroking motion, over
her slender right leg.

"That tickles, too!" said the child.
"Oh, my— how it tickles!"

She jerked her leg and kicked it free
from Numar's touch.

"You see?" cried the frail little man
of the wheel chair, facing his accusers.
"You see?"

"You are all right now," said Numar
to the little girl. "You will always be
all right."

The mother set her daughter's feet
upon the ground. Numar knelt on one
knee and held out his arms. The child
took two tottering steps and threw her
arms about his neck.

"I like you," she said.

Numar lifted her up and patted her
head and said : "You are going to grow
up and be a big girl and make your
father and mother very happy." With
this, he gave her back to the mother's

THE GREEN MAN

arms.

Neither parent could speak but tears
of deepest human gratitude shown from
their eyes.

A spell had fallen upon all who had
witnessed this little miracle but now the
spell was broken by a professional ap-
pearing man, pushing forward. Numar
had just turned away and was walking
toward the house when confronted by
this gentleman.

"Just a minute, youl" said the man.
"I'm from the Medical Society. I just
saw your performance. I don't know
what kind of treatment you used, but
do you have a license to practice medi-
cine?"

Numar's black eyes examined his
challenger.

"License?" he repeated.

"Yes," said the man. "You can't
treat people for illnesses or physical
disability in this state — or any state —
unless you're a recognized doctor or
practitioner."

"Who says he can't?" said the hunch-
back on crutches. "I've just seen what
he did, too— and if he can heal people
by touching them, I say he ought to
have a right to do it!"

The man from the Medical Society
turned upon Numar's new-found sup-
porter who was now backed by many
who had lost faith in him a few min-
utes before.

"My dear sir I The Medical Society
doesn't recognize any such healings as
genuine. How do we know this man
wasn't just putting on an act? How
do we know that little child was actu-
ally paralyzed in her right arm and leg?
That's the trouble with you invalids.
Just because you can't get cured by
your doctors, you start running after
these quacks. This green man here
isn't mysterious to me. I've seen his
type before. He's just got a new twist
on an old wrinkle, that's all. If any of

you people believe his cock and bull
story about coming from another
planet, you're crazy!" The man from
the medical society paused 1 and gave a
curious look at Numar. "Incidentally,"
he said, "Where did you come from?"

Numar did not reply. Instead, he
mounted the steps to the porch.

"Hold on, here ! " said the man. "I'm
not through with you yet! "

He reached out and grabbed Numar
by the arm. It was as though he had
touched a live wire. He leaped high
in the air and let out a yell.

The crowd laughed.

"Serves you right!" taunted ^a crip-
ple. "You had no license to touch him!"

But this humor was totally lost upon
the representative of the medical so-
ciety.

"Arrest this faker!" he demanded of
Chief Andrews. "I know how he oper-
ates now. He's got an electrical con-
trivance — and he just tried to kill me!"

"You'll have to swear out a warrant,"
said the Chief. "But if you'll take my
advice, you'll let well enough alone!"

A PERSPIRING gentleman, coat
over one arm and tie and collar in
hand, dodged past the police and
reached Numar on the porch.

"Remember me?" he asked. "My
name's Sid Alex. I'm the M.G.M.
talent scout. You're terrific, Mister
Numar! Absolutely terrific! I've been
trying to get to you for the last half
hour. You'll go great in pictures ! "

"Have you seen the newspapers?"
asked Numar, quietly.

The talent scout laughed. "Yeah —
that's a good trick! What a publicity
stunt! You keep on pulling that and
you'll have the whole country ga-ga!
Then let us bring out a picture of you
so the public can really see you for the
first time — and we'll clean up!"
(Continued on page 76)

The CADUCEUS
of HERMES

by George Tashman

THE brunette with Commander
Rogers looked at him wistfully
and said, "Oh, darling, if your
sub should be hit — "

Rogers interrupted with a laugh.
"Now, by the N i n e R e d G o d s of
Chance, let's not even think of it. That
might be pushing my luck a bit too
far!"

The blonde with the young leftenant

sitting across the table said, "Com-
mander, I've noticed that lately , you
have been swearing by the strangest
deities. Is there any reason?"

Rogers did not speak for a moment,
then answered. "None in particular,
except that I have come to believe in
them."

The blonde laughed. "Oh, really
now, commander, when did that hap-

Long ago there was a god named Hermes, who was

a sort ot "doctor". Anyway, doctors

AMAZING STORIES

pen?"

"When I was evacuating our agents
from Greece. Never thought about
them one way or the other before that
time. Then — but here, I'll tell you
the story just as the fellow told it to
me."

Brandon lifted the old man in his
arms and ran for the rude shelter at
the base of the precipice. He placed
the old man on the bed, went back to
the door, and peered anxiously at the
sky.

There they were, five of them, fly-
ing low enough so that he could make
out the German markings on their
wings. Brandon followed them with
his eyes until they were blotted out
by the rocky overhang of the cliff.

The old man groaned and twisted in
his sleep. Brandon looked down at
the caduceus on his tunic lapel, sighed,
and went back to the old man. Gently
he took the thin wrist between his
thumb and fingers and felt for the
pulse. Suddenly he was possessed of
a strange feeling, and, looking up, he
saw the old man's eyes riveted to his
face.

"Well," said Brandon, in his best
doctor-to-patient manner, "so you're
finally awake."

The old man answered him in Eng-
lish so perfectly enunciated that it
seemed almost archaic. "Yes, I am
finally awake. But how long have I
been this way, and how did I get in
this condition?"

"I found you," Brandon began,
"when I was fleeing from a Nazi pa-
trol. You had been shot, and you
had evidently fallen over the edge of
this cliff. The cold and the lack of
food had almost done you in, but I
found this hut a week ago, and I guess
I have a good chance of nursing you
back to health."

'^pHE old man looked around for the
first time, and said, "How lucky.
You have brought me to my home. I
trust you have found and used the
food and the small supply of fuel I
keep here?"

"Yes, I found them," said Brandon,
"but I am afraid they are almost gone.
However — I suppose we should both
consider ourselves lucky to still be
alive." He changed the subject abrupt-
ly. "Don't you want to know who I
am, and what I am doing here?"

"No, my son," said the old man.
"You are obviously a British officer —
that I can tell from your uniform —
and you are just as obviously a doctor.
You wear an emblem which is quite
sacred and very old. The caduceus,
ycu know, was Hermes' winged staff,
and the serpents entwined around the
staff were his protectors."

"Of course," laughed Brandon, "it
was rather silly of me to think a Greek
would not recognize the caduceus."

The Greek went on. "As to what
you are doing here — well, that too is
rather obvious. You are one of those
who were left behind when the British
army was forced to evacuate."

"Yes, I was left behind, but it was
my own doing. I was caring for
wounded civilians, and foolishly went
right on caring for them until the Ger-
man patrols were just a few streets
away. Then, when there was nothing
more I could do, I fled."

Looking at him thoughtfully, the
old man said, "You say foolishly, my
son, but I can see that you have great
strength of character. You kept an
oath made a few years ago — to ancient
Gods. An oath that begins — 'I swear,
by Aesculapius the physician — ', the
oath of Hippocrates."

"The Hippocratic oath," said Bran-
don. "Perhaps that did influence my
decision somewhat, or perhaps it was

THE CADUCEUS OF HERMES

because the ethics of my profession
have become so deeply ingrained that
I could not forget them."

"Never forget them, my son, and
they will never desert you. The Gods
take care of their own." The old man
moaned and closed his eyes for a few
seconds. Again he opened them and
looked at Brandon.

"Doctor, I have but a short time to
live — no, please don't interrupt me. I
know. I too was a doctor at one time
— until I broke my oath with the Gods,
and they destroyed the skill with which
they had once endowed me. However,
I do have one gift which is mine to
do with as I like, and that gift I am
going to give to you. It is the most
precious gift a medical man can receive
— the caduceus of Hermes."

Brandou could see the shadow of
death in the.old man's eyes, and he kept
silent.

"You may scoff, doctor, but I tell
you that this is the actual caduceus
which Hermes used in his travels — it
has been handed down in our family
from father to son for untold genera-
tions. Always we have been doctors,
but whence came the caduceus first,
we cannot tell. Now, if you will reach
under the bed and hand me the pack-
age you find there, I will show you."

"DRANDON reached under the bed,
and felt a long object wrapped in
burlap. He pulled it out and handed
it to the old man, who started unwrap-
ping it with faltering fingers. When
the last fold of burlap had been unrav-
eled, he held the object out to Brandon.

It was a caduceus, but it was almost
five feet in length. It was made of
some metallic substance, but a cursory
examination failed to reveal the source
of the metal to Brandon. The snakes
were amazingly lifelike, and the work-
manship on the wings was so realistic

that each feather stood out as do those
on the wings of a bird.

"Take it, doctor," pleaded the old
man, "take it. I assure you, it is real,
it is wonderful. Call it if you will, a
gift from the Gods to one who did not
break faith."

The old man stiffened, then relaxed
suddenly, and for the mere whisper of
a second the shadow of death obscured
his face. The old man was at peace
with the world.

As he covered the shallow grave with
rocks, the full enormity of his plight
hit Brandon. As far as he knew, he
was the only British soldier left cn this
section of the coast line. He was out
of food, and it was impossible to forage
in his uniform. On the other hand, if
he changed into civilian clothes, he
would be shot as a spy if caught.

Shrugging his shoulders with a ges-
ture of finality, Brandon reentered the
hut. He sat down on the bed, and
picked up the caduceus, again marvel-
ling at the exquisite workmanship.
Brandon sighed, and spoke aloud.
"Now that he's gone, I might as well
take a walk. No weapons, so I might
as well take Hermes' staff along."

Putting on his battered garrison cap,
Brandon moved jauntily down the
beach, taking care, however, to stay
within the sheltering overhang of the
cliff.

The gulls saw him before he saw
the gulls. Sooner than he realized it,
he was surrounded by thousands of the
birds, sitting on the rocky hedges of
the cliffs, and along the rocky beach.
He stopped in consternation. The gulls
would give him away! If any patrol
on top of the cliffs saw thousands of
gulls suddenly wheeling and scream-
ing, it would immediately suspect that
there was something below. Bi!t fhe
gulls did not move. They just . sat
there, looking at him out of their beady

AMAZING STORIES

eyes. Quietly Brandon took a step
forward. Still the gulls just sat. Again
he took a step, and again — and the
gulls just watched him. After about
three hundred yards, Brandon looked
back, and the gulls, all of whom were
now behind him, still sat, and still
looked at him out of their inscrutable
beady eyes.

gRANDON turned and pursued his
way down the beach. He could not
understand the action of the gulls, but
he did not intend to look a gift horse
in the mouth. Look a gift horse — 1
What was it the old man had said?
"A gift from the Gods—" But that
was absurd. There were no ancient
Gods, and even if there were— but
there couldn't be — so why even think
about it. Brandon was a man of sci-
ence, and thought scientifically.

The sun had gone over the cliff an
hour ago, and dusk was fast gathering.
Brandon walked on until the moon
came up, then, pillowing his head on
the rock, he rested in a crevice at the
base of the cliff. The caduceus lay at
his side, for he intended to hold on to
it for its value as a weapon.

He heard the scrambling as he was
waking from a fitful doze. Quickly he
sat up, reaching for the staff. It was
not there! Ah! there it was, lying not
three feet from his side. He must
have rolled over a few times as he
dozed. But what was that moving
next to the staff? A rabbit, in its death
throes. It must have fallen off the
edge of the cliff. Here was his break-
fast — a gift of the Gods! he thought.
Then he stood still for a moment. He
shrugged his shoulders, and awkward-
ly, using the sharp edge of the wings
of the caduceus as a knife, he went
about skinning the rabbit.

It was half raw, as Brandon did not
dare build a big fire, but is compared

favorably to anything he had ever
tasted. at the Carlton. His stomach full,
and his mind rested, Brandon once
again grasped the staff, and started
down the beach. He had gone a half
mile, when he heard it! The sharp
gutteral sounds of German!

It sounded as though there were five
or six of them. Brandon turned to the
cliff for shelter, and saw that there was
no possible hiding place closer than
that in which he had spent the night.
The Nazis were coming closer. He es-
timated their distance as not over one
hundred yards. The only reason they
had not already seen him was because
the cliff jutted out just ahead, and
masked him.

It was an impossibility to make the
crevice, but Brandon decided to try it,
rather than be taken without even an
attempt to keep his freedom. Gripping
the caduceus tightly in his right hand,
he took off up the beach. His feet
seemed to be going faster, faster,
faster, until it seemed to him that they
were no longer touching the ground.
The cliff was speeding past him, but he
managed to slow down in time to keep
from overshooting his goal.

JDRANDON jumped into the crevice,
and flattened himself out against
the shadowed wall. Strangely enough,
he thought, he was not even winded.
No doubt the adrenalin which fear had
pumped into his system was the cause
of that. Well, where were they? He
waited an interminable length of time
— and then he thought of the sand over
which he had travelled!

When he had come up to the crevice
during the night, he had travelled over
rock for quite a distance. But when he
had left the crevice in the morning, he
had travelled over sand. The Nazi
patrol could not help but notice his
footprints. Now he could hear them

THE CADUCEUS OF HERMES

coming. His knuckles showed white
where he gripped the caduceus. If they
entered the crevice, he was prepared
to sell his freedom dearly.

There! He could hear their feet
scuffling now — now they were passing
so close to his hiding place that he could
make out the grim death's heads on
their lapels. But they went right on
walking and talking, until their sounds
faded out in the distance. Brandon
waited until he thought he was safe, and
then started off down the beach, in the
opposite direction from that in which
the Nazis had gone.

He looked down at the sand, and
there he saw the six sets of footprints
which the Nazis had left, but he could
not find even one footprint which he
had made, going either in the direction
in which he was now travelling, or which
he might have made when he was
running from the patrol! He took a
few steps, then turned and looked
down. Yes, he was leaving footprints
now. But what of before? Brandon
looked up at the sky, and a strange
chill racked his body. He felt weird,
but, still holding the caduceus, he
went on. . *■

Rounding the bend which had hidden
him from the Nazis, Brandon looked
out to sea. What was that? Some-
thing bobbing up and down on the
waves — so far out that he could hardly
make it "out.

Brandon climbed the cliff a few feet,
so that he would be above the object
Now he could see it more clearly. It
was a buoy — a submarine signal — a
sub was slated to pick someone up
here — probably tonight! The medical
officer scrambled down the cliff, and
then noticed that he was still holding
the staff of Hermes. He tried to place
himself on a direct line with the buoy,
and then sat down to wait.

The waiting was the worst part of it.

Time crept by, and Brandon tried to
amuse himself a closer examination
of the staff he was holding. But try as
he might, he could find no maker's name
on it, no clue to its origin. The sun
went down over the cliff, and once again
dusk fell.

T> RANDON, his eyes glued to the sea,
began scanning the horizon. He
was sure the sub would surface in the
interval between dusk and the rising
of the moon. He wondered who the
other passenger would be, but that did
not stop his search. Now! He seemed
certain that a faint silhouette had risen
from the sea, not over a mile out. Bran-
don decided to ,wait a few more min-
utes, in case the appointed passenger
should arrive. He was sure that the
sub would wait at least thirty minutes.

Brandon waited as long as he dared,
then stripped off his tunic and shirt,
transferring all his papers to his long
empty oilskin tobacco pouch. Holding
the caduceus, slowly he walked to the
water's edge.

"Achtung! Halt!" The patrol had
returned! Just his luck to be so near
to freedom, and yet so far. As the six
Nazis rushed him, Brandon began
sweeping a wide swath about him with
the caduceus. Brandon did not hear
the report, but he did see the flame,
and he was conscious at the last of a
burning sensation in his chest.

The light hurt his eyes, but he forced
them open. He was aware of an over-
powering throbbing vibration. A voice
said, "Coming around all right, old
man ? You really had a rum go."

Brandon turned to the speaker, and
saw that he was attired in a British
naval officer's uniform.

"Am I— am I—?" He struggled to
speak, but for a minute the words would
not come out.

"Yes, you're back with the Empire.

AMAZING STORIES

This is a British submarine, heading
for Blighty. We were supposed to pick
up an espionage agent, but I guess he
didn't quite make it. That's when we
found you."

"Last I remember," said Brandon,
"I had been shot."

"Right. Chest wound. We removed
the bullet. No complications. Our
rubber boat was just a few hundred feet
off shore when we heard the shouts and
saw the flash of the shot. Landed and
found you there, with your queer look-
ing walking stick at your side. Brought
it along, incidentally.

"But we can't quite understand
about those Nazis. There must have
been six of them, alive and healthy,
when we heard those shouts. All dead
when we landed. Only marks of vio-
lence were two small punctures on their
necks, right over the jugular."

Brandon closed his eyes, and lay
there, thinking.

'"THE blonde looked at Commander
Rogers, eyes wide, and laughed.
"That's one of the most remarkable
stories I've ever heard. But you're only
pulling my leg, of course. No one in
his right mind would believe such a
story, now, would he?"

Commander Rogers smiled, and said,
"Take it for what it is worth, darling."

The young leftenant facing the en-
trance exclaimed sharply, "I say, sir,
there's nothing in regulations about
walking sticks, is there? Because an
officer carrying the largest walking
stick I've ever seen just blew in."

The blonde looked in the direction
of the entrance, and her mouth dropped
open. "It's— it's— ."

Commander Rogers turned in his
chair for a look, started, said, "Dam-
me!" Then, "Hullo, Brandon! Come
on over for a whiskey!"

THE END

UNTAMED, FERTILE ACRES

By CARTER T. WAINWRIGHT

THE trumpets of the white men blew west
all down through the last twenty-five cen-
turies. A blind, somehow mystic urge has
impelled the Western Aryans to abandon field and
forest for new and trackless wilderness, again and
again.

Sometimes the pressure of groups like the Huns
or the hordes of the Great Khan have brought this
about, but more often than he will desert a posses-
sion, the white man will die for it. The desola-
tions of war and the scourges of politics do not
destroy man's love for "home" and stability.

The white man's way of life (exclusive of the
Aryans of India) has always been wild, and heed-
less of life and the resources of environment. The
vaster the resources surrounding him the more
extravagant he becomes. In American history this
is particularly true. The fields would scarcely be
turned a dozen years before the ancient Aryan
urge would start the wagon wheels again toward
the setting sun. The entire pioneering phase of

American life might be fittingly termed a vast
agrarian search— the search for soil which would
not "farm out" in a few years and require endless
replenishment. Everywhere the white man has
been he has abused the soil. (The overwhelming
population of Asia could not even have begun if
the Orientals had not carefully returned every-
thing they could to the soil.)

So, as the paltry minerals were extracted too
rapidly from the earth and their replacement neg-
lected, so, as the Great Tiller (the earthworm)
died, so, as the food of the white man began to
make him neurotic, the wagon wheels rolled west
through the blue foothills, past the sporadic forest
to the virgin land that men so wanted that they
died for it, sometimes one death, sometimes more.

Today the white man stands at land's end. To-
day he must listen to the needs of the blind earth
from whence he sprung. It is the white' man's
burden today to rewrite the song of the soil. It is
today or never ! — John McCabe Moore.

NEXT MONTH: "THE RETURN OF SATHANAS"

WHO ARE

By H. C.

THE early history of Ireland presents some
of the most remarkable and neglected mys-
teries in the history of our planet . . . and
a study of their language and legends brings to
light some fascinating overtones of fantasy. This
is true, in fact, of the British Isles throughout, but
their investigation has been long shoved into the
background by the supposedly more productive
archaeological study of the near and far east.

A Christian missionary who visited Ireland
about 500 A.D., leaves us the following comment.

"Irish legend is more truly accurate Irish history
than the myths of other pagan nations. Their
minstrels do not so much embellish their accounts
of great deeds."

And what do the legends tell us? The present
Irish, dominant on the Island for periods guessed
at as between 6,000-10,000 years, are the descend-
ants of a boat-load of dark-skinned, black-haired
people, with extremely ungaelic names ending in
the Latin "o" or "a" though the Roman Empire
itself was probably not founded for a thousand
years after the latest date given for the landing on
"Innisfail" as the legends call Ireland.

These invaders found on the island a far more
ancient defending race ... the blonde light-skinned
people called De Daanans, a name structurally
suggesting several root languages, but belonging to
none of them. These De Daanans were deeply
versed in magic, (science?) and through their
powers held off the invaders for centuries. But
we find in legend the fact that the invaders also
had powers of "magic" though whether these were
brought with them or learned later from the De
Danaans is problematical.

The ancient legends seem to indicate that even-
tually a truce of some sort was formed, though
sporadic fighting continued for a long time. The
blonde and the dark pooled their resources and a
civilization was built up, which, if legendary
chronology is correct, reached a high peak cul-
turally long before the stirrings of western civili-
zation in Rome and Carthage. These were the
golden days of "Tara" the capital city of ancient
Ireland, to which every Irishman from the old sod
looks back longingly through the eyes of racial
memory.

And yet, when the Romans made abortive land-
ings during the period of the British campaigns,
they found nothing worth studying or even taking
in this land that had once been great. Roads were
mudholes, such castles and cities as were left were
in advanced ruins, and the people were now but
squalid savages, fur-clad degenerates living like
animals in the bogs, and totally forgetful of a
glorious ancient heritage except for the recurrent
legend of Tara, and tales of little people that were
their friends and helpers, and giants . . . who
usually were not so friendly and helpful. A line

THE IRISH?

GOBLE

of degenerate kings ruled some provinces, and were
later to be subsidized by the expanding empire of
the Britons across the Irish Channel. Of the an-
cinet Ireland nothing was left ... it had been
blotted out as though it had never been, except
for ruined castles and the legends of the bards.

After the Roman's left Britain, the only real
contact for the next 1,500 years was the investiture
of the Irish King O'Bokane with a grant of land
in Scotland in 900 A.D. He fought for some minor
British king and for this favor became the first
Scotchman of Clan O'Bokane (now Buchanan).
Any Scotch Buchanan today can proudly claim
Irish ancestry.

A FTER 900 A.D. the island was not again of-
** fically visited until the time of Queen Eliza-
beth in the 1500's. In the period of the Armada,
the Spanish set up outposts there. When the Brit-
ish Navigator Drake invested the coast, he found
naugt but backward savages, lower and dirtier
than the Australian bushman, some fighting on the
Spanish side, the rest grovelling fear-stricken in
the bogs.

Whence came the Irish? What struck their civ-
ilization? Whence came that harsh consonantal
language so nearly unlinked to every other lan-
guage in the world that it is a study in itself. Who
built the weird marvel of Stonehenge across the
channel? From whence comes that psychic sen-
sitiveness that exists in the Irish even today . . .
oddly enough more prevalent in the dark-Irish
than the red-Irish (whom cynics claim are Scotch-
men) . Why the recurrent legends, verified by the
observation of outsiders even today, of the ban-
shees, the little people, the earth people, the lep-
rechauns, that refuse to settle down to oblivion
even in the 20th century.

Whence comes the Doric Scale into Irish music ?
And why do we find the bagpipes in Scotland and
Ireland, when the near east is the only other area
in Europe to use them as a national instrument.
Only in Greece, Macedonia and the Balkans do we
find the bagpipes used . . . and the melodies the
Greek shepherd plays bear haunting kinship to
ancient Gaelic and Celtic melodies. Why not bag-
pipes in France, Russia, Germany, and other na-
tions that would logically have come in contact
with the pipes had the Celts and Gaels been a
European group.

Either the black Irish were an eastern people
... or else they came to Ireland in the dark dawn
before even the eastern people spread out from
the Euphrates valley. And before them were the
blonde De Danaans . . . who left no trace at all,
except in legend, unless it be the remarkable blue
eyes of the otherwise dark-pigmented black Irish-
man. These and many other mysteries of Ireland
warrant tremendous further study.

GETAWAY

by Chester S. Geier

It was either get away, or die at the hands
of the police — but getting away in a space ship
wasn't exactly the way he wanted to escape

IN THE early afternoon the rain
turned to a gray drizzle which filled
the barn-like machine shop with a
tired murmuring. Simmons opened the
great sliding doors to let in air, and be-
yond the rain hung like a curtain of
dirty cellophane.

Simmons stood for a moment in the
machine shop doorway, watching the
rain with the look of sly scrutiny with
which he looked at everything. He
saw without seeming to see. His nar-
row bony face was turned toward the
cottage some thirty yards away, but he
watched the rain out of the corners of
lidded eyes. His eyes were the color
of greasy brown vest buttons, and held
just about as much expression.

Behind Simmons, in the shop, a radio

coughed into sound. It had been on all
the time, turned to the police band.
This bulletin, Simmons remembered,
was the first of the afternoon.

He turned with a movement made
sharp by sudden tension and peered
into the gloomy interior of the shop.
He didn't swing his head around all the
way, just enough so that he could see
what he wanted to see from the corners
of his eyes. A crafty fear shone in his
gaze like a furtive light behind a dark
window.

The radio was a tiny compact port-
able that stood on one end of a wide
oak desk. Overland was leaning toward
the radio with straining eagerness, as
though it were about to deliver a mes-
sage for which he'd been a long time

AMAZING STORIES

waiting. His stick-thin body trembled
a little, and the white hair which sketch-
ily covered his pink head seemed trying
to stand on end.

The voice of the police announcer
came crisply into the quiet of the shop.
"To all air and land patrols on routes
72, 6, and 45: On the alert for a ma-
roon Nesley coupe, last seen speeding
toward route 6. It is believed to have
Illinois license plates. Approach care-
fully. The two men inside have just
held up the Warren National Bank in
Warren, killing a guard. They are
armed and desperate, and will shoot to
resist arrest."

The bulletin was repeated. Simmons
relaxed, and the breath blew softly
through his lips. Just a robbery in
town. Nothing in that to worry about.

Simmons' lips tightened into a hard
line. The possibility that news of Al-
fred Overland would turn up on the
police radio was remote — but the pos-
sibility remained. Simmons decided it
was a chance he could no longer con-
tinue to take. It wouldn't do to have
Overland's son appear before he had
everything under control.

Simmons turned his head a little, so
that his sidewise glance took in the vast
bullet-shaped object which occupied
the center of the shop, and all but filled
it. The object was a ship. Not a sea-
going ship, not an air ship, but a ship
that had been built to cross the void
between worlds.

TT WAS about fifty feet long and less
than half that in diameter. It had a
smooth silvery skin freckled in places
by slit-like flush-set ports. Thick stub-
by wings projected from its sides. At
the stern a group of wide thick-walled
jet tubes bristled like a cluster of can-
non barrels. It wasn't slim, sleek, and
pretty, the kind of ship shown in pic-
tures where art is more important than

science. It looked mean, tough, and
competent, as though it really would do
what it had been built for.

A gleam came into Simmons' eyes as
he looked at the ship. The hungry
gleam of avarice.

To Simmons the ship represented
wealth and prestige — and all that stood
in his way was a missing kid named
Alfred. Overland didn't count. Over-
land was an obstacle easily got around.

If Alfred Overland were to appear
before Overland senior died, he would
be given possession of the ship as an
inheritance. Simmons knew, being
nothing more important than old Over-
land's assistant, that he could expect
only mere crumbs from the feast of the
proceeds. Which, he felt, was unfair,
considering the fact that he'd spent
seven years helping old Overland build
the ship. He ignored the fact that he'd
served merely as an extra pair of arms
and legs, and that it was Overland's
engineering genius alone which had
made the ship possible.

If, on the other hand, Alfred ap-
peared after his father died, Simmons
could claim that the space craft had
been built on a partnership basis. Thus
it would be Alfred who would get the
crumbs. To Simmons would fall a large
fortune— and more, the glory of being
co-inventor of the first successful space
rocket.

The growl of a car motor came
through the patter of the rain. Sim-
mons turned back to the doorway, cran-
ing his head so that the corners of his
eyes could take in the road.

It was the postman. He thrust a
number of letters into the rural type
mailbox, raised the flag, and got back
into his car. It growled into motion
and rattled along the road to the north,
which would take it out of the valley
and toward the next farm almost two
miles away.

GETAWAY

Overland's reedy voice sounded eag-
erly. "Was that the postman, Ted?"

"Yes," Simmons answered. "He
brought some letters. I'll go out and
get them." His tone was one of friendly
courtesy. It did not match the stiff
hostile set of his face.

"Hurry, then," Overland said.
"There might be news of Alfred."

Simmons' lips writhed back from his
teeth in a snarl. "Damn the old fool!"
he breathed. "Him and his Alfred."
He was careful to keep the whisper
safely below the murmur of the rain.
The blind have sharp ears.

Simmons walked briskly to a spot
near the desk, where his raincoat hung
from a nail driven into the wall. Still
briskly, he donned it, pulled a shapeless
discolored brown hat over his lank
streaky-gray hair. He was trying to
give the impression of a man anxious
to please, a good servant conscientious
in the performance of his duties. And
he knew he was getting it across. Over-
land's sightless eyes, hideous with puffy
pink scar tissue, were turned in his di-
rection with the same trust with which
a dog watches its master.

"I'll be right back," Simmons said.

Overland nodded his wispy pate
quickly. "Fine, Ted."

Simmons swung out of the shop and
down the path that ran along the side
of the cottage. He followed this to the
mailbox perched precariously on its
post at the border of the road. The
rain fell like cold tears on his face.

gIMMONS swiveled his head around,
darting sharp sidewise glances about
him, as though it were important that
he miss nothing of his surroundings.
There wasn't much to miss. There was
just the cottage, dingy and tired-look-
ing, sitting in the rain and hugging its
warped gray boards about it like a
homeless sick old woman shivering in

a threadbare coat. Directly opposite,
and some thirty yards away, was the
shop. It had once been a barn. Over-
land had converted it into a marvel-
ously complete and efficient machine
shop. It had cost a lot of money, but
Overland — when he'd started building
the ship, at least — had had a lot of
money. He'd made a small fortune as
a designer of stratosphere rockets.

The cottage and the machine shop
were enclosed in a shallow valley
formed by low hills. The valley had
once been a large farm, but under
Overland's tenure the soil had been
abandoned to weeds, grass, and trees.
These had their spring underclothes on,
but hadn't got around yet to their sum-
mer finery.

There were two letters in the mail-
box, both addressed to Simmons. He
was anxious to read them, but it would
have taken time. According to the game
he was playing, these letters weren't
for him.

Thrusting the letters beneath his
raincoat, Simmons hurried back to the
shop. Overland had turned his chair
to face the doorway and was leaning
forward impatiently. At the sound of
Simmon's returning footsteps, he
straightened tensely.

"For me, Ted?"

"Yes. Two letters."

"Any from the agencies I hired?"

"Both. One's from Argus Investiga-
tions, the other from Parkerton's Con-
fidential Service."

"Hurry, Ted, open them."

Simmons opened the first letter.
"This one's from Argus," he told Over-
land. The letterhead read: "Trans-
World Stratolines, Inc." The body:

"Dear Mr. Simmons:

"I was very much interested in the
description of the space navigating ves-
sel which you have constructed. Can
you call upon me at your earliest con-

AMAZING STORIES

venience with plans and details?"

It was signed by the president of the
company.

Simmons grinned in satisfaction.
This was the third fish that had taken
the bait. And so far it added support
to the theory which he had held all
along — that while a great fuss was
being raised over the space rocket re-
search then going on, Overland was the
only inventor who had as yet produced
a successful model.

Simmons' letters to the head execu-
tives of the various stratolines had been
cautious and unrevealing, mere feelers.
Yet they had drawn immediate interest.
They showed that the different strato-
lines were practically falling over each
other in their eagerness to be first to
obtain an extra-terrestrial roc£et.

CIMMONS' grin became large and
wolfish. By clever playing of one
firm against the other, he could jack the
price of the ship to fabulous heights —
become a millionaire dozens of times
over.

Overland's piping voice sounded
querulously. "What does the letter
say, Ted?"

Simmons came back to reality with a
scowl. He began a smooth improvisa-
tion.

"The Argus agency reports that their
operative traced Alfred to Los Angeles.
He was registered for a week at a third-
rate, hotel called The Baldwin Arms.
The registration date is from August IS
to August 22, 1956 — over a year ago.
The trail seems to have ended there."

"Blind alleys!" Overland muttered
tiredly. "Always blind alleys."

"There are countless young men who
answer Alfred's general description,"
Simmons pointed out. "And Alfred
didn't always use his real name. That
makes finding him an almost impossible
task."

Overland sighed, then bent almost
double in his chair as a fit of coughing
convulsed his emaciated body. He
straightened again after a moment and
waved a thin hand in a kind of weary
irritation. He wheezed:

"I know, I know! But if Alfred's
alive, he can be found. What does
Parkerton's report?"

Simmons opened the second letter. It
was from a strat-rocket pilot with
whom he was acquainted. It was hand-
written in an untidy scrawl and full of
grammatical mistakes. But Simmons
didn't consider this important. What
mattered was that the writer was a
veteran pilot and willing to take risks.

"Dear Mr. Simmons:

"I got your letter about the new ship
okay. Sure, I'll come out there and
give it a run for your money any time
you say so. I ain't doing nothing right
now. Don't worry about me. I tested
new tubs before and know what to ex-
pect. I ain't afraid of no ship that
flies."

Simmons didn't doubt that the ship
would fly. During the seven years he'd
spent helping Overland build it, he'd
become familiar enough with its operat-
ing principle and construction to know
what it could and couldn't do. But be-
fore he went any further with his plans,
he had to be absolutely certain about
the ship's performance. The inept
author of that second letter was not a
regular test pilot, but he would pass.
The controls of the ship, after all,
weren't much different from a strato-
sphere rocket. The only difference was
that the ship had jets powerful enough
to take it beyond the stratosphere —
beyond the Earth entirely.

Noticing that Overland was becom-
ing impatient, Simmons quickly recited
a fake Parkerton report. "The Park-
erton agency seems to have a little more
information on Alfred. They traced

&ETAWAY

him to Tucson', Arizona, and from there
to nearby Lyttel Rocket Field. On
September 14, 1956, he signed on a
strat-rocket bound for Australia. He
jumped ship in Sydney. Parkerton's
beamed the Sydney authorities, but
were unable to obtain any further in-
formation."

A HAND of coughing took hold of
Overland and shook his roughly.
He remained bent over in the chair, el-
bows resting on his knees. His voice
was thin and brittle.

"Blind alleys again. It . . . it's
maddening." Overland put his hands
on his knees and pushed his fragile
torso erect. "Ted, you don't think that
Argus and Parkerton's are just — fool-
ing me? Just taking my money and
giving faked reports?"

"Hardly likely," Simmons replied,
through lips suddenly stiff and dry.
"They're reputable agencies."

"Then why can't they give me some-
thing definite? Why can't they tell me
where Alfred is, instead of where he has
been?"

"They seem to be trying their best."

"It's not good enough. They've
wasted too much time without turning
up anything. I can't wait much longer.
I haven't much longer to live. Six more
months at the most." Overland broke
off as another coughing seizure wracked
him. "The only thing that keeps me
hanging on is Alfred. I want Alfred to
pilot the ship. And I want to go up
there with him— beyond the Earth. I
know the acceleration will kill me, but
if I were able to ride the ship, with
Alfred at the controls, I'd die content."

Simmons, wisely, said nothing.

"It's been ten years now," Overland
went on. "Ten years . . . Alfred
was expelled from college because of
some trouble he had gotten into. Gam-
bling, I think it was. But he wasn't a

bad boy — adventurous, maybe, but not
really bad. I don't know why he never
returned home. He probably thought
I'd disown him or something equally as
foolish." Overland's face was shad-
owed and sad. He se'emed to have be-
come lost in some place of dusty mem-
ories. In the silence the falling rain
whispered softly.

Overland abruptly straightened in
the chair. "Ted, I'm going to make
one last try. Argus Investigations can
be dispensed with. Parkerton's seems
to have done much better, and so I'll
keep them on the case. I'm going to
dictate a letter to them. I'm going to
have them send an investigator to Syd-
ney. But first I'd like to talk to him in
person. I have a few ideas that may
help. Get your notebook, Ted. I'm
going to have Parkerton's send one of
their men here immediately."

Simmons walked stiffly to an adja-
cent desk which had a battered type-
writer sitting on it. He pulled open a
drawer, took out a shorthand notebook
and a pencil, and returned to Overland.
He sat down in a nearby chair, moving
jerkily in sections, like a jointed figure
of wood. He felt cold and trapped.
Overland had unwittingly forced his
hand. He had never corresponded with
Argus Investigations or Parkerton's
Confidential Service, and now, whether
an investigator arrived or not, Overland
would find out.

Overland began to dictate. Simmons
scrawled meaningless pothooks in the
notebook. It really wasn't necessary
to do more than make the ordinary
scratching sounds of a pencil moving
across paper, for Overland did not
know the difference. An accident with
a welding torch three years before had
blinded him completely.

Simmons' mind was . furiously at
work. If Overland discovered the de-
ception of long standing which had

AMAZING STORIES

been played upon him, Simmons' plans
for obtaining possession of the ship
would be ruined. Simmons came to the
inescapable conclusion that Overland
had to die. It would be murder, but
it was the only solution.

From the corners of his eyes, Sim-
mons probed the shadows up near the
roof of the shop, where a massive block
and tackle hung from an overhead run-
way. He'd thought of murder before,
and he'd considered the block and
tackle before, too. He knew a method
whereby how cleverly to rig the device,
balancing it so perfectly, that the mer-
est touch upon the tackle rope would
bring the block down with piledriver
force upon anyone standing below. It
would look just like an accident. None
would suspect. Blind men blunder into
things. . . .

The sly gleam crept back into Sim-
mons' eyes as his self-confidence was
restored. He'd set the trap — soon.

CCHWAB lighted a fresh cigarette
with the butt of his last one. He
blew a plume of smoke at the wind-
shield of the car, darted a quick glance
at Nor den, and settled back into his
seat. He ran the tips of his thick fin-
gers along the rim of the steering wheel,
slowly, caressingly. He tried to keep
the expression of sleepy indifference on
his heavy whisker-shadowed face, but
every so often his eyes wandered to the
face of his companion. His eyes were
a pale washed-out blue, hard and cal-
culating. Killer's eyes.

Norden was slumped on his spine,
knees propped against the dash board.
He gazed steadily at the rain. Not once,
while Schwab smoked down the cig-
arette, did he move. There was that
about his stillness that suggested a
smoldering fire, ready at any instant to
burst into flame. His face was some-
thing carved from frozen bone, hard,

white, and cold.

The rain hung over the world like a
curtain of dirty cellophane. It mur-
mured softly on the roof of the coupe —
a maroon Nesley coupe. The car stood
beneath a copse of trees, some twenty
feet from a narrow dirt road that ran
toward and between a line of low
hills. The trees were still in bud, but
their thickly interlacing branches gave
enough protection from searchers
above.

Schwab finished the cigarette, low-
ered the window on his side, and flipped
the stub out into the rain. He raised
the window again, started to caress the
steering wheel again, then instead
jerked his short heavy body around to
face Norden.

"Look, kid, what's eating on you?"

Norden spoke flatly, without turning
his head. "I don't like the way you
fogged that guard, Mugger."

"But, the hell, kid, it was him or me ! "

"He wasn't using his gun," Norden
said, still flatly. "You could have hit
him over the head when he tried to grab
you, instead of plugging him through
the guts."

Schwab shrugged heavily. "What's
a guard? They come a dime a dozen.
The John Laws got enough to burn us
anyway. One more fogging won't make
any difference on the hotseat."

"Maybe not." Norden's voice was
suddenly tired. "I just don't like kill-
ing for the sake of killing."

"Lot of things you don't like all of a
sudden," Schwab growled. "You didn't
want to come up to this part of the coun-
try. You didn't want to pull that job in
Warren — when any sap could see it was
the easiest touch in a hundred years.
And you didn't want to make a getaway
in this direction, even if the Johns were
watching all the main roads. What's
got into you, kid?"

"None of your business, Mugger."

GETAWAY

QCHWAB'S thick lips drooped sullen-
ly. He lighted a fresh cigarette and
fell to staring at the rain. His resent-
ment didn't last long. Thought of the
loot from the bank filling a leather
satchel on the seat at his side restored
him quickly to good humor.

"The hell, kid, snap out of it! What
we got to be down in the mouth about?
We got almost two-hundred grand from
that bank job. When we get back to
the city, we'll live like playboys!"

"Damn the dough! " Norden grunted.
"And I'm sick of the city. I'm sick of
this kind of life — sticking up fuel sta-
tions and grocery stores, and hiding.
Always hiding. I'm sick of everything."

Schwab drew thoughtfully on his cig-
arette. The kid was getting soft, he
reflected. That was bad. No telling
what a guy would do once he got soft.

Schwab decided that something
would have to be done about the kid.
He glanced at Norden's brooding pro-
file, then at the satchel between them.
His pale eyes narrowed in abrupt cun-
ning. If something were to happen to
the kid — if he stopped a couple of slugs,
say — there would be nobody to split
with. Schwab imagined himself in the
city, with all the money his. It made a
nice picture. And to Schwab the best
part of it was that nobody would ask
questions about what happened to the
kid. In his part of the world nobody
asked questions like that.

A thin buzzing sound broke into
Schwab's thoughts. He jerked toward
the windshield of the coupe, aware that
Norden was moving, too. Together they
stared up at the gray sky.

Flying low, a gyro dipped and circled
through the rain. Blue-painted — a po-
lice gyro. It was coming nearer, bob-
bing toward them like a cork drawn
along by a current of water. The thin
buzz of its motor became a low drone.

Schwab watched the gyro, holding his

breath. If the Johns sighted the car —
But the gyro did not descend low
enough for its occupants to glimpse the
coupe through the trunks of the trees
whose branches screened it from above.
The obscuring effects of the rain might
have helped. The gyro banked while
still some distance away, bobbed off be-
yond sight and hearing.

Schwab released his breath, but the
tight feeling inside him remained. The
Johns knew they were somewhere in the
vicinity. They would return.

Schwab glanced uneasily at Norden.
"Maybe we better get a move on, kid."

"Not until dark," Norden said. "The
Johns won't be back this way for a
while."

The rain gradually slackened, finally
stopped. The gray sky darkened. A
wind sprang up and made the branches
rattle and scrape on the roof of the
coupe like bony fingers knocking for
admittance. Star began to appear one
by one as the sky slowly cleared.

XTORDEN said, "All right, guess we
can make a run for it now. Turn
the car around and head back for the
highway."

"What's wrong with this road?"
Schwab demanded.

"It's slow, and it'll take us out of our
way."

"So what, kid? It's safe. They'll
have Johns posted on all the highways
around here."

Norden was silent a moment. "We'll
use this road, then — but no stops, Mug-
ger. Understand? We go straight
through."

Schwab said nothing. He started the
coupe and ran it to the road. He didn't
turn on the lights. Hunching over the
wheel, squinting his eyes, he headed for
the line of night-shouded hills.

It was rough going. The road was
just so much mud, and in places^hub-

AMAZING STORIES

deep in water. And in the dark the
coupe lurched and swayed like some-
thing blind or drunk.

The road climbed as it cut through
the hills. On the slopes the water had
drained off, and the wind had made the
ground comparatively dry. The travel-
ing was easier. Made short-tempered
by the enforced slowness of their prog-
ress, Schwab seized eagerly at the op-
portunity offered by the smooth stretch.
He gunned the motor of the coupe, and
raced it over the crest.

Norden jerked erect in his seat.
"Take it easy ! " he protested.

Schwab grunted, but did not slacken
speed. The coupe plunged downhill in-
to a pocket of black shadows. Only
then did Schwab touch the brake. But
it was too late. At the bottom of the
rise the water had drained into muddy
pools, slick as oil. The coupe splashed
into one of these, and still traveling fast,
slewed around in a great half circle. One
of the rear wheels struck a sharp rock
with vicious force. There was a loud
pop as the tire let go. The wheels still
churned, but the coupe remained mo-
tionless.

Norden took a deep breath. "That
did it," he said tonelessly.

Muttering curses, Schwab bore down
on the accelerator and twisted furiously
at the wheel. Mud flew boiled beneath
the wheels, but the coupe stayed where
it was. After a while Schwab gave up,
and cut the engine.

"Looks like we walk," he growled
defiantly.

Norden said nothing. He sat per-
fectly still a moment, then climbed
slowly from the car. Clutching the
satchel of money, Schwab followed.

They stood at the entrance to a
broad valley. Night lay heavy over its
expanse.

Norden said, "There's a farmhouse
down there. They'll have a car. But

get this, Mugger, we're not going to
steal that car."

"Not steal it?" Schwab gasped. "But,
kid, how are we — "

"We're going to take ihe car — and
we're going to leave enough money to
pay for it."

Schwab choked back a protest. The
kid had gone soft, all right, he thought.
He decided that the sooner Norden met
with his "accident" the safer it would
be. He gripped tighter at the handle of
the satchel and licked his lips.

"Come on," Norden said.

"MIGHT had covered the farm build-
ings with a thick blanket of shad-
ows. There were no lights. The cot-
tage and the barn bulked in the gloom
like monsters huddled in sleep. In the
silence came the chirping of crickets,
mingled with the intermittent croaking
of frogs.

Norden whispered, "There's no ga-
rage. The car'll be in the barn."

Schwab glanced at the cottage. "I'm
hungry," he muttered.

"Forget it," Norden advised. "We're
leaving these people strictly alone.
Come on," he ordered again. He strode
quickly toward the barn.

The sliding doors were not closed.
They were open a little in the middle,
enough to permit of squeezing through.

Inside the barn it was pitch black.
Schwab produced his cigarette lighter
and snapped it aflame. He drew in his
breath sharply.

"I'll be damned, kid, look!" he whis-
pered hoarsely. "A strato ship, of all
things!"

In the feeble light, Norden's eyes
were narrowed. "That's no strato ship.
I've flown them on bootlegging runs,
and I know. Look at those jet tubes.
They're too big, and there's too many of
them. This is a space rocket."

"But what's it doing here?" Schwab

GETAWAY

demanded.

Norden shrugged as though the ques-
tion irritated him. He turned to the
doors and pushed them shut. Then he
strode to where a light bulb hung be-
tween two desks. He wrapped his hand-
kerchief around it, switched it on. He
looked around, frowning.

"No car," Schwab said softly. "Noth-
ing."

"They probably have their stuff de-
livered," Norden muttered. "And travel
to and from town by air taxi." His
questing glance fell upon one of the two
desks. There was a typewriter on it,
and nearby a sheaf of papers. Norden
picked them up. "Instructions on how
to fly the ship "

Schwab asked, "Think you could fly
it, kid?"

"Probably — if the controls aren't too
different from a strato rocket. But I
don't see what good that dough from the
bank would do on the Moon." Norden's
eyes held a glitter as though a light had
been turned on behind them. He looked
at the ship, then at the sheaf of instruc-
tions in his hand. A smile smoothed the
tired lines from his face.

"We got to have a car," Schwab
growled. He snapped his fingers. "Say,
maybe they got a car, but it's parked
outside somewhere. I'm going to take
a look."

Norden seemed not to have heard.
He had seated himself on the desk and
was reading the sheaf of instructions.
They seemed to fascinate him.

When Norden reached the last sheet,
a muffled report broke the stillness. His
eyes jerked from ihe page, and a star-
tled awareness of his surroundings crept
back into them. He put the papers back
on the desk and got slowly to his feet.
He reached into the V of his jacket and
loosened his automatic in its holster.
Then he watched the doors, his
tired again.

^jpHE sound of approaching footsteps
became audible. Schwab squeezed
through the doors, his thick lips
stretched in a grin. He brandished a
large bundle wrapped in a green-
checked tablecloth.

"Look, kid, grub!"

Norden did not look at the bundle.
He said quietly, "What was that shot,
Mugger?"

Schwab's grin faded. His washed-
out blue eyes shifted evasively. "Aw,
just an old guy. I knocked over a chair,
and he come busting in."

"So you killed him."

"It was him or me."

"He had a gun?"

"Yeah, a shotgun," Schwab answered
quickly. "I'd of got both barrels if I
didn't let him have it first."

"You lie, Mugger. He didn't have a
gun. And I told you to keep away from
the house."

"But, hell, kid, we didn't have any-
thing to eat since noon. Look here's
grub." Holding out the bundle and
grinning placatingly, Schwab advanced
toward the desk.

"Back!" Norden's voice cut the air
like a whip. Muscles bunched whitely
in his jaw. "I told you to keep away
from the house. I told you I'm sick of
your killing. That old guy you fogged
might have been my father."

"Hell, kid, I didn't know! Why
didn't you tell me that's why you — "

"You know now, Mugger. Now we're
quits. You going to go for your gun, or
do I have to give it to you this way?"

At the first note of warning in Nor-
den's voice, Schwab had started moving
backward, getting himself killing room.
Now he judged he had enough. He
rested his weight lightly on his feet,
crouching a little, all poised, alert, and
ready for business. His confidence came
from a knowledge of superiority. He
know he was faster on the draw than

AMAZING STORIES

Nordsn.

Schwab laughed softly. "You're
making this too easy for me, kid. I was
going to give it to you in due time for the
bank dough, but if you want it now, I'll
give it to you now."

Schwab's hand flashed into the open-
ing of his jacket, moving so fast it was
only a blur. His elbow hit a tackle rope
which hung from an overhead runway.
There was a hiss of sound, a stomach-
wrenching thud. Schwab hit the ground
like a nail driven by a hammer. He
lay very still. There wasn't much left
of his head.

Norden, gun in hand, stood swaying
on his feet, staring dazedly. There was
a nightmarish unreality about Schwab's
instantaneous death.

Shock slowly left Norden. He hol-
stered his gun and stood motionless,
listening, his head cocked toward the
cottage. The night was very still — for
a moment. Then came the thin buzzing
of an approaching gyro.

Norden stiffened, but still he did not
move. Something about the sound
puzzled him. He kept listening. After
some seconds had passed, he knew what
was wrong. More than one gyro was
moving through the night. There
seemed to be a squad of them, in fact.
And there was something purposeful
about the sound of their approach— as
though they knew just where they were
going and what they would find when
they got there.

Norden thought of the old man in the
cottage whom Schab had killed. He
had probably lived long enough to put
in a call to the police. For a moment
Norden considered going to the cottage,
but reluctantly abandoned the thought.
There wasn't enough time.

He roused into activity. He took the
sheaf of instructions from the desk,
folded them lengthwise, and stuffed
them into the inner pocket of his jacket.

From the floor he lifted Schwab's bun-
dle of stolen food. Then he strode
quickly to the ship.

'"J~'HE entrance port was open. Nor-
den swung inside and pulled the port
shut, turning the sealing wheel which
rendered it airtight. There was a sec-
ond port just a few feet beyond the first,
the space between forming an airlock.
Norden sealed shut the second port also,
and moved toward the control room.
There were lights there. He decided
that the closing of the ports had auto-
matically turned them on.

Settling into the pilot chair, he took
out the sheaf of instructions. He read
the first few pages a second time, then
studied the control board before him.
Within a few minutes he knew just what
to do. He pressed a row of studs, ad-
vanced a lever one notch in its calibrat-
ed slot, and flicked a switch. The ship
began to vibrate to a muted roar from
outside.

Norden knew that flame from the jets
would ignite the barn. But the fire
would serve its purpose by keeping the
police at a safe distance when the ship
took off.

The jet tubes warmed up. Every-
thing was ready. Norden reached for
the lever again, and moved it four
notches down its slot.

The ship should have taken off easily,
gradually built up acceleration. But
there was a flaw in the fuel lines — one
of those minor flaws that happens to be
in an important place — and the terrific
heat didn't help it any. The fuel let go
with a tremendous roar. The ship was
hurled heavenward at incredible speed.
Norden's mind blanked out as a giant
hand of pressure grabbed him and
squeezed him mercilessly.

Norden awoke to a steel-bound world
of utter silence. His head throbbed
with pain, and every muscle of his body

GETAWAY

ached unbearably. Slowly, sweat bead-
ing his forehead at the effort, he forced
himself erect in the chair. A glance at
the forward viewport showed him that
the ship was in space.

Norden moved the lever up and down
in its slot, but got no results. Neither
was there any response from the various
switches and studs. Norden faced the
realization that the ship was plunging
away from the Earth, entirely out of his
control. There was no going back. He
had given himself a one-way ride to
nowhere.

J_JE TRIED to feel dismayed, but
found he actually didn't care. This
was better than jail. He grinned and
reached for the bundle of food beside
him.

The sound of stumbling footsteps
stopped Norden in the act of biting into
a slice of cheese. He whirled in the
chair, a hand flashing inside his coat.

The door to the control room opened.
A man crept in, an old man whose sight-
less eyes were hideous with puffy pink
scar tissue. He swayed on his feet, his
thin lined face very pale. Blood from
his nose and mouth had dried in long
brown stains on his face and clothing.

"Who . . . who is that? Alfred?
Alfred — is that you?" His voice was a
thin dry husk of sound. He swayed a
moment more, then seemed to fold up

on himself.

Norden crossed swiftly to the old
man and slid an arm beneath the wispy
white head. After a while the blood-
caked lips moved.

"Alfred?"

"Yeah," Norden said. "Yeah."
"Son! You . . . came back?"
"Sure . . . Dad. I came back."
"But who told you where — "
"They told me. They told me every-
thing."

The white head nodded a feeble nod
of understanding. Peace came into the
gaunt lined face.

"I . . . I'm sorry I wasn't at the
house when you came, Son. I thought
I'd sleep better ... on the ship."

"Sure, Dad."

"We're in space?"

"All the way out in space, Dad. I
wish you could see it. Beautiful, full of

stars."

The old man started to say some-
thing further, but a spasm of coughing
choked off the words. Blood frothed to
his lips. He became quiet again. The
breath left him in a long sigh of con-
tentment. His dying smile cracked the
blood which caked his face.

Norden stood up slowly. He looked
musingly down at Overland.

"Must be the guy who built this
ship," he muttered. "Mom and Pop
probably sold him the farm . . ."

REGENERATION

ONE of the most amazing phenomena in all
of nature is that of Regeneration, or the
abiiity to repair physical damage. It would
be extremely useful if man could go as far as some
animals in this ability, then we could grow back a
finger damaged in an accident or an arm lost in a
war, but this degree of regeneration seems to be
reserved to the lower animals. In fact, the lower
on the evolutionary tree we go, the greater the
power to "grow back" becomes. Science shows
us that this is the result of two separate factors.
One, that the cells in man and most higher animals
are too specialized as we are much more complex
than the lower forms, and regeneration depends
upon the ability of the uninjured cells to produce

the kinds of cells destroyed by the injury; and
two, man, having a brain and better coordination
is better equipped to escape injury. In man,
wounds of considerable size heal and broken bones
grow together again, but it would certainly be
much more of a blessing if we could grow back a
whole missing leg as can a salamander. The
record for regeneration in the animal kingdom is
held by the sponges, as the cells of these primitive
animals, even after having been pressed through
a very fine silk blotting-cloth, such as is used for
sifting flour in flour mills, will creep about until
they meet, at which time they will go back to-
gether to form the original sponge. This is my
idea of a convenience. Charles Reeves

M-m -m - m -m -ml

by MULLEN COOKE

They were advanced creatures/
they lived in a world in Time where
such a thing as a kiss didn't exist

IT WAS one of THOSE afternoons.
The sky was a blue loveliness over-
head, the birds were giving out
with their sweetest, early summer was
literally everywhere, and the world was
definitely all right. Nothing at all was
the matter with 9146, A.D. (After the
Debates) . The story of these Debates,
of course, had not been included in the
Historical Records for semantic rea-
sons. The concrete idea of conflict had
long since fled this globe, and some-
thing called the Millenium was at hand.
Nobody seemed to know quite what
was expected of a Millenium, but every-
body had at least a hazy idea that it

was some sort of thousand-year-plan,
during which everything was going to
be definitely all right. Like, for in-
stance, 9146, A.D.

They were just out for a walk, all by
themselves. After apparently endless
days of congratulatory parties, inter-
spersed with a few more solemn occa-
sions, and crowned at last by the most
solemn occasion of all, at which They
had been Conditionally Joined, the
privilege of just going out for a walk,
alone, was nothing short of the pinnacle
of bliss. Every bird along the Way was
singing especially for them. Every tree
cast its shadow exactly where it would

1)9

AMAZING STORIES

furnish the most delightful relief from
the benign sun that did seem to be out-
doing itself just a little in an over-zeal-
ous effort to please on this memorable
Sixth, Fourteen.

As They strolled happily along, They
communicated with one another in the
wonderful new intimacy They enjoyed.

"Like it?" He asked.

"M-m-m-m." She replied, and the
slight overtone of emotion left no doubt
about what She meant, although the
speech pattern remained singularly ab-
stract.

After a while He tried again.

"Lovely day, isn't it?"

"M-m-m-m-m." She replied, again.

He was beginning to wonder if He
had sentenced himself to a lifetime of
communication by M-m-m-m-m, when
the accident happened.

TT HAPPENED very suddenly. There
was absolutely no warning. None
whatever. They were strolling along
the aquamarine tinted section of plasti-
way on the east side of the main
thoroughfare that ran through the
park from end to end, and a split
second later they were still strolling
— or trying to — but the aquamarine
tinted plastiway had disappeared. So
had the park, as such. Everything had
disappeared, in fact, except trees and
birds. The birds still sang, apparently
unconscious of the appalling transfor-
mation that had taken place all around
them.

Instead of the familiar thorough-
fare, there was a dirty looking, greyish-
black Way that stretched into the dis-
tance beyond and behind where They
stood. It curved, dipped, and rose
again in a very disconcerting fashion,
tipping to the left or right as it swerved,
apparently in order to accommodate
whatever manner of traffic might be
tempted to risk its uncertainties.

The park was gone. Instead of
neatly kept lawns and colourful flower-
beds in geometrical designs, there
spread out on either side of the dingy
Way a most dismal and unpreposessing
wilderness. The trees were vaguely
familiar, being, for the most part, of
a species greatly resembling the speci-
mens that flourished in the park. How-
ever, they were not trimmed or cared
for, and He noticed with disgust that
they were fairly crawling with insect
life of one kind and another.

But the crowning indignity inflicted
upon Them by this strange and abrupt
transition, was occasioned by the com-
plete and utter disappearance of the
plastiway, the lovely, translucent foot
path along which They had been stroll-
ing, only a tenth of a moment before.
Instead of being supported by a jewel-
like surface, scientifically designed to
adjust itself imperceptibly to the weight
of every footstep and prevent fatigue,
their feet moved, with considerable
difficulty, through a tangle of barbarous
weeds, and squelshed down with every
step into some dark and mucky sub-
stance, noisome with the implications
and exhalations of decay. Furthermore,
the whole thing was well below the level
of the gloomy Way.

Suppressing expressions of distaste,
They clambered up to the gravelled
edge of the Way to catch their breath
and take in this extraordinary situation
in which They found themselves. After
a moment or two, the solution became
glaringly apparent to Them.

"Time warft," He said, simply.

QHE did not reply. He was grateful
for the omission of that incoherent
"M-m-m-m," but He did wish She
would contribute something in the way
of comment. He was decidedly upset
and uncomfortable.

"D'you mind?" He queried.

M-M-M-M-M-M!

She controlled a slight shudder.

"No." She returned, "Oh, no. Not
at all." Then, almost immediately and
in a distinctly less assured tone,
"There's nothing to worry about . . .
is there?" She concluded.

He looked up and down the primitive
Way, taking in all its devious curves
and nauseating dips and rises. He saw
no sign of life upon it.

"No, nothing to worry about." He
said. "At least, not yet."

Apparently She did not derive much
comfort from that statement. Her
shudder was quite perceptible, so He
made haste to compensate for his ob-
vious error.

"We walked right through it, didn't
we?" He said, cheerfully, in an effort
to get her mind off the possible — or im-
possible — dangers that might confront
Them at any moment.

"Can we get back?" She asked. It
was more of a wail than a clear ques-
tion.

"Of course!" He exclaimed. He
really meant "I hope so," and She
knew it. Hurriedly, He continued:

"All we have to do is go right back
down there where we came from, face
in the opposite direction, and calmly
walk right back into the park."

"That is," He added a bit doubt-
fully, "That is, if there hasn't been a
variation since we came through."

She thought of the trough-like de-
pression in which They had first been
introduced into this bleak world,
thought of the sticky, smelly substance
that had oozed up between their toes,
and She shuddered again.

"Don't shudder!" He said sharply.
"I can't think when you shudder that
way."

"I can't help i . . ." She began.

A DISTANT, sputtering roar cut off
all further speech, and with one

motion They were back in the hateful
trough, crouching cautiously among the
tall plants, their keen eyes straining to
catch the first glimpse of the roaring
creature that was coming toward them
along the Way. As it drew abreast of
their hiding place, She said:
"It's a machine."

"Yes," He replied, "and there's a
Eeing in it."

"And he wasn't one of the Joined."
She added, acutely conscious of Him
again for the first time since the park
had left them. It gave Her a measure
of confidence. They stood up and
looked after the rapidly disappearing
vehicle.

"Let's watch for another." She said.

He protested. "What about going
back? If we're going to get home again
without being missed, and searched for,
and finally traced here and returned by
the authorities, we'd better be on our
way. We've fooled around here long
enough already for a variation to de-
velop that will be broad enough to land
us the other side of the Millenium — or
maybe the Miocene!"

She wasn't listening. She was look-
ing down the Way in the direction from
which the vehicle had come.

"Let's wait for another," She re-
peated. "Just one more. I didn't get
a very clear picture of the Being in it.
Wait."

They waited. Ten or eleven minutes
later another roar developed in the dis-
tance, this time from the other direc-
tion. Instead of hiding again They
stood boldly on the gravel and waited
for the vehicle. They sent their thought
out to meet it. In it, They discovered,
was another Being, unjoined. The
Being saw them, apparently, and They
caught a word of speech:

"Hitch-hikin!" Then, a moment
later: "Probably could use a lift."

The speech patterns themselves

AMAZING STORIES

meant nothing to Them, of course.
They went to a really mental level,
searching for concepts.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, "The Being
wants to allow us to enter the vehicle
with him and accompany him to his
destination. Let's!"

"What about getting back?" He re-
minded Her, but realized as He framed
the thought that it was no use. They
would go with the strange Being in the
noisy vehicle. He searched again for
a concept in the Being's mind, found
what He wanted, and extended the
right arm, fingers folded into the palm,
out-thrust thumb pointing to the dusty
blue sky.

'"J^HE vehicle slowed, creating as it
did so another noise more horrible
and nerve wracking than its ordinary
clamor — a kind of screeching and
squalling that did nothing to assure
Him of the rational basis for this mad
adventure.

The Being within the vehicle pushed
open a metal door. "Hop in," he said,
and They got their first really severe
shock — up to that moment.

Whatever else They had thought to
find in this antique country, They had
not expected audible speech! It took
a moment for all the implications to
collect themselves and fall into the
proper mental categories. Diplomati-
cally, They used that moment to crawl
into the reeking interior of the vehicle.
It turned out to be much smaller inside
than it had appeared to be, and there
were noticeable traces of carbon-mon-
oxide and other unpleasant compounds
in the foetid air that filled the tiny up-
holstered cabin.

"Nice day," offered the Being.

She was busy analyzing the atmos-
phere of the cabin to determine
whether or not it would actually sup-
port Their life without doing them some

serious harm, so it was He who
searched again through the Being's
fuzzy and disorganised concepts, and
replied: "Yes, so it is, even though the
atmosphere is considerably thickened
by a mixture of dust and unsimplified
gases, and has an astonishingly high
pollen count for this time of year."

He thought He had done very well,
indeed, so He wondered a little at the
Being's response. They were not at all
what a civilized person had a right to
expect after a pleasant statement about
the weather. After all, He had taken
the annoying trouble to employ vocal
speech, very carefully and precisely
patterned after the Being's own. He
had even pitched it in the same key and
reproduced the identical inflections.
Why, then, did the silly Being glance
at him so quickly, and give way to a
fear impulse to such an extent that the
vehicle went out of control for a mo-
ment?

She was very quick. She seized the
steering wheel and with a deft twist
brought the vehicle out of its erratic
zig-zag and set it again upon a straight
and even course down the right hand
side of the Way.

"Thanks," commented the Being,
very drily.

Nobody uttered any more audible
words for quite a while. Finally the
Being said:

"Say, do you feel all right?"

"Sure," He said, again using the
Being's kind of speech. "Why do you
ask?"

"I was just wonderin'," said the
Being, and settled down to the task of
making the vehicle travel more rapidly
along the perilous way— as rapidly, in
fact, as it was capable of travelling.

^FTER a while She aroused Him
from his gloomy speculations upon
the possibilities of prolonging their life

M-M-M-M-M-M!

under the existing conditions, with:

"Do you know what I've been do-
ing?" She asked.

"Certainly," He replied, "I am fully
aware that you have been combing
through that poor Being's concepts and
speech-patterns without shame or re-
serve. He is undoubtedly a savage, but
have you no respect for his privacy?"

"Oh, he doesn't mind," She said. "He
doesn't even know I'm doing it."

"Well, nosey, what have you found
out?"

Very quickly She gave Him the re-
sult of her observations. The Being,
to himself, was a "man." The vehicle
in which they were being hurled along
was variously labelled, with a confusion
characteristic of this man, "car,"
"Ford," and more weakly, "automo-
bile," although this last was a term the
young man scarcely connected with this
particular vehicle. It was reserved in
his mind for other objective images,
similar, yet subtly different and vari-
ously evaluated. The Way along which
they were travelling was either "road,"
or "highway."

"And do you know what year we've
hit?" She chuckled.

"I'm not sure I care," He returned,
more than displeased with her levity in
the face of a situation which, He was
convinced, was growing graver by the
moment.

"Silly," She said. "Just for that I
won't tell you." "Do you know," She
went on, "he isn't joined — his word is
'married' — and there is something odd
about his concept of it. Please look
and see what you can make of it."

"Better be quiet," He cautioned.
"The man will hear you."

"No, he won't," She said. "He doesn't
even believe in speech, let alone in hear-
ing it. The only concept he's got con-
nected with the word 'speech' is asso-
ciated with vocal sounds. Real hearing

he calls a 'hunch,' and the certainty
value of that word is practically nil. He
won't hear. .Go ahead and look."

He looked. It was pretty puzzling.
The word "married" was connected
with any number of odd ideas and
phrases. Discomfort, ringing bells, an
amorphous mass of white fabric, a cer-
tain pattern of queerly arranged but
musical sounds, strange food, two peo-
ple — and certain other ideas. . . .
Hastily He withdrew his mind, confu-
sion and consternation welling up and
gratefully obliterating an unwelcome
mental activity.

"Did you see it?" She inquired,
knowing perfectly well that He had.

"But he looks so HUMAN!" He
said, aghast.

"M-m-m-m-m," She replied.

"Why, he's nothing but a ... an an-
imal!" He spluttered.

"He is not!" Her thought was like
an explosion. "He's nice."

"He doesn't use even half his brain! "
He expostulated.

"And you, with four degrees in His-
tory!" She cried derisively. "As you
very well know, eight thousand years
ago — I mean, NOW — there was no
known use for the other half of the
brain. They simply left it empty 1"

CUDDENLY in a lightning flash of
calculation the whole horrible idea
She had put together swept over Him.
But it couldn't happen! She couldn't
be allowed to go through with it. He
must do something to prevent this ter-
rible, maniacal impulse from becoming
action. It was hideous to consider —
but what could He do? As yet He had
so little experience in dealing with this
oddly illusive, fellow mind. ... He
felt helpless, stunned. The words of
the Officials at the ceremony of joining
chanted themselves over and over again
in the midst of tempestuous emotion:

AMAZING STORIES

"What hath been joined together. . . .
What had been joined together. . . ."

"Let no man put asunder," She fin-
ished for Him. "But he isn't putting
anything asunder. I am."

"But you can't leave me!" It was
His turn to wail.

"I'm not leaving," She corrected Him
firmly. "I want this body we're in.
After all, it was mine before you came
along!"

Automatically, and almost uncon-
sciously, She rehearsed the young man's
opinion of that body, even dredging up
the disgusting word-pattern the young
man had applied to it — "Some chick!"

Indeed! That was too much. Only
the greatest possible self-control pre-
vented Him from bursting into audible
language and terrifying the man again.
Before He could formulate any speech,
however, She continued, her words run-
ning into one another almost as fuzzily
as the man's did:

"You can get back perfectly easily,
if you don't bother to take the body
along. Why, you won't even have to
go back to that sticky place — the 'ditch'
the man calls it. You can simply un-
join yourself and go home. Once you
get back, you can report to the Officials.
I'm sure they can arrange another join-
ing for you if you'd like that. You
see," She sighed, whether wistfully or
dreamily He could not tell, "I don't
really think I'd fit into society there
. . . not any more. Remember, the
Officials warned us that I had atavistic
tendencies, and made the joining Con-
ditional on that account. Now I know
what they meant."

She sighed again, and this time there
was no question about it. It was
dreamy.

He did some fast thinking. It was,
He saw very clearly, quite true that
now, with this latent atavism thorough-
ly aroused. She would hardly be fitted

for the advanced kind of life They had
been destined to lead in that remote
world of parks and plastics from which
They had been thrust so unexpectedly.
The had been joined, after all, less than
half a day. If He let her go, as she
wished, and hurried back, He could
still return to his old body. Since
Theirs had been a tentative, or condi-
tional joining, that body would be pre-
served for the traditional three day
period, completely insured against the
slightest deterioration. Why, it would
be as good as new, and by Sky! He had
taken about all he could stomach of this
wild ancient world. The thought of liv-
ing on, in a better world, permanently
attached to an atavistic mind that
would force him to remember the whole
hideous incident, that would sigh and
dream about it, and say 'M-m-m-m',
was more than He could bear.

"All right!" He said, with great de-
termination and much relief, "I'll go."

"You're really a dear," She said, "I
knew you would."

"He'll be afraid of you, though." He
said. "That man is afraid of us now.
He'll never get over it."

gHE laughed, almost audibly. The
atavism was gaining ground rapidly
as He began to loose the connections
that bound his identity to the brain and
body they shared together.

"Don't worry about that," She said.
"He's forgotten already I've presented
him with a whole series of memories to
account for me. Now he thinks he met
me at a dance. It may interest you to
know that in his mind, at this mo-
ment, he and I are doing something
he calls 'eloping'. Right now he is plan-
ning how to get me some proper cloth-
ing. You see, I found an idea in his
mind — 'masquerade' — that seemed to
explain everything.

Utterly horrified, He said: "It's a

M-M-M-M-M-M!

pleasure to go back without you. In
fact, I owe it to society to do so!" He
concentrated his mental forces, and
with a terrific wrench, His identity
hurled itself across a segment of the
time-sphere at a speed that made the
racing Ford rush backward, for Him,
into eight thousand years of dimly re-
membered and incorrectly recorded
History.

She felt a sudden, sharp pain behind
her eyes, and buried her face in her
hands. All at once she was crying. The
young man turned his head, tenderly

solicitous. The brakes squalled, and
the Ford lurched to a stop in a wide
spot on the gravelled shoulder.

"Don't cry, Baby," he urged,
"What's the matter, Baby?"

She lifted her delicately oval face
that was framed like a cherub's in soft,
short golden curls, and said — in audible
speech, in the young man's language,
but pitched a full octave higher than
his voice:

"Kiss me!"

The young man was more than
willing to comply.

PHOTOGRAPHY

IN MEDICINE

MANY doctors have taken up photography
of medical cases for their own conven-
ience and to eliminate expensive profes-
sional assistance. Without adequate training they
are unable to produce first class work, but they
eventually acquire sufficient experience to do some
good work.

Rollfilm cameras have been used with good
results in the photography of patients, but for
specimens, copying, etc. a small plate or filmpack
camera is advisable, because it is necessary to use
some emulsions which are available only in cut
films.

A generation ago medical illustration was con-
fined almost entirely to drawings. The photo-
graphs of thirty years ago are poor in detail, and
fine detail is the essence of a medical photograph.

Medical illustration today has changed. Photo-
graphs are pushing out the drawings. A photog-
rapher can photograph things only as they are,
while an artist may put in or leave out anything
at will.

More and more hospitals and institutions are
realizing the necessity and importance of photog-
raphy today. It is a necessary part in teaching
students and addressing the profession, and many
medical institutions consider that photography is
indispensable to them.

There is no system of registration, licensing or
other method of qualification at the present time.
A man has no way to prove his ability except by
producing his work. If one does not have photo-
graphic aptitude, perseverance, patience, steady
nerves, and the ability to observe human suffering
impersonally without feeling ill, he should not un-
dertake a position of this kind.

A medical photographer must have a strong
stomach. He must have excellent studio and dark-
room technique. This field is not limited to men,
women have become excellent workers.

Medical photography covers many subjects. In
clinical work, patients are photographed to show
various lesions, diseases, etc. during arid after
treatment. While the sequence must often be
made under the same conditions, viewpoint, scale,
exposure, and lighting, the interim between ex-
posures may be weeks or even months. Most
patients are sent to the studio, but it is some-
times impossible to move them and they have to
be photographed in bed.

The hospital patient should never be photo-
graphed without his or her written consent, and
the written request of the doctor in charge.

Photographic records are a valuable addition
to case histories. One picture is worth a thousand
words and in reviewing a case, a set of illustra-
tions is vitally important.

Pictures in the operating room are taken only on
signal from the surgeon. Endoscopic photography
is being practiced but not to a great extent.
Briefly, it means taking photographs of various
body cavities. The stomach or abdominal cavity
may be entered through a small incision, and by
means of a long tube, carrying illumination, and
attached to the camera, a small area may be pho-
tographed.

This article may give an insight into a branch
of photography that is still of little knowledge to
most of us. It is a field that is broadening and
becoming increasingly important, and will even-
tually mean a great deal more to medicine than
it does at the present time. When considering the
work that is being done in medicine, the research
and teachings, and new discoveries that will be
made, may help us to understand just how valu-
able medical photographers are to science. They
are playing such an important part that as we
begin the second hundred years of its application,
we may expect far greater things of photography.

Pete Bogg

Everything movable in the hotel room was being showered out of the window into the street

-Tk GREEN MAN

(Continued from page 47)

Numar shook his head. "The public
will never see my picture," he said. "I
appreciate your interest — but I do not
photograph ! "

The crowd had pressed around the
porch and those within ear-shot gasped
their amazement. The talent scout
looked at Numar, uncertainly.

"Listen, brother!" he said, in a low
tone. "That's a great line to hand out
to your public. But you're not kidding
me. Don't keep playing so hard to
get. We'll pay your price ! "

Betty suddenly stuck her head out
the upstairs window.

"Yoo-hoo!" she called. "Here I am,
Mister M.G.M.! Did you want to see
me?"

The talent scout glanced up at her
and Numar stepped quickly into the
house. The door was shut and locked
behind him.

"Hey, Mister Numar!" he called.
"Don't do that to me! " Then, looking
up at Betty, "Yes, young lady, I do
want to see you. I've got a real busi-
ness proposition to make. You get
Mister Numar to sign with me— and
I'll put you in pictures 1"

"Oh, that's wonderful!" cried Betty.
"You leave it to me!"

"Can I come in and talk to you?"
asked Mr. Alex.

"Well, not right now," said Betty.
"You just wait around outside and I'll
let you know, soon as I get things ar-
ranged!"

"For anything as big as this, I'll wait
all night! " he waved. "You go to it! "

/^HIEF ANDREWS was compelled to
^ give the home of Professor Bailey con-
tinued police protection. The services of
two officers were required, one guarding
the front of the house and the other, the
back. Long after Numar had made his
appearance and then retreated behind
locked doors, a constantly changing crowd
of people came and went outside. With
nightfall this crowd still persisted as later
editions of the Los Angeles papers carried
further stories and photographs.

THE GREEN MAN

77,

Controversy waxed hot and hotter. Was
Numar, the mysterious green man, actually
a traveler from another planet or was he a
colossal mountebank — perhaps one of the
most ingenious of all times? There were as
many different opinions as there were peo-
ple who had seen or had any contact with
Numar. These now numbered some hun-
dreds, and increasing numbers of curious
men and women were seeking a chance to
see Numar and judge for themselves.

Most baffling of all was the inability of
photographers to capture Numar's likeness
on a film. They had peppered away at him
from all angles but when they brought
their negatives from the dark room, only
a blank space remained where Numar
should have been. This violated all the
known laws of physics. What the human
eye could see, the camera should have been
able to photograph.

A series of pictures had been taken of
the young couple who had brought their
three-year-old daughter with the hope he
could cure her. When Numar had reached
out his hand to touch the arm and leg of
this child, these scenes had been shot. The
pictures revealed the little girl reacting to
something and actually moving her right
arm and leg but Numar was conspicuous
by his absence. Even more sensational
were pictures snapped when the over-joyed
mother had set the feet of her little girl
upon the ground and the child had held out
her arms and taken several faltering steps
toward Numar. He wasn't there at all, al-
though the expression on her face indicated
she was seeing someone!

But the picture which aroused the most
excited comment was one made of Numar
as he had lifted the child in his arms and
was handing the little girl over to her
mother. In this picture, the three-year-old
daughter was in mid-air with no seeming
means of support! This looked so much
like trick photography that the camera-
men on the different papers had gotten to-
gether and signed affidavits, testifying that
these published pictures had| been repro-
duced exactly as they had been taken.

"We have no explanation for this phe-
nomenon," said the editors. "We believe
it to be a feat of magic, but if so, none of
the country's leading magicians know how
it is being done. Of course, the possibility
of hypnotism should not be ruled out. Even
so, it is a type of mass mesmerism more
extensive and amazing than any heretofore

demonstrated.

"It is a known fact that the fakirs of
India who perform the disappearing rope
trick, employ hypnotic methods to make
their audiences see what they do not see.
This has been proved by people who have
snapped pictures of the rope being tossed
in air and the Hindu boy climbing this
rope, finally vanishing in space. When
such pictures have been developed, they
have shown the fakir to be seated cross-
legged upon the ground, with no rope or
native boy in sight. The 'scene' has taken
place only in the observer's mind.

"In this case, however, the cameras
caught the little girl in mid-air, indicating
that she had actually been lifted up by
Numar who managed to keep himself in-
visible! What technique Numar uses has
not yet been discovered."

PAPERS carried the statements of several
prominent physicians with respect to
the two persons Numar had apparently
cured by a "laying on of the hands." These
doctors made it clear, if Numar possessed
some electrical apparatus, as was surmised,
that the sudden surprise and shock occa-
sioned by contact might have proved ef-
fective. This did not necessarily mean that
Numar had any supernatural powers or
that he was not a native resident of this
planet.

Dr. Cochrane of the Medical Society, re-
ferred to Numar as, "a shameless charlatan
who is trading upon the sentiment and gul-
libility of desperate and earnest health
seekers." He went on to declare, "It is to
be lamented that so distinguished and
respected a scientist as Professor Bailey
should have been taken in."

Both United and Associated Press news
services put the incredible story of Numar
on the wire to newspapers throughout the
country. It created an instantaneous
nation-wide sensation. Dispatches were
cabled and sent by wireless abroad. World
wide interest was immediately so great
that editors clamored, in every tongue, for
more information about this mysterious
green man.

Here, at last, was apparently a real "man
from Mars" story. The fiction of Buck
Rogers and his space ship had become
fact. What the comic strips had predicted
had come true. What reasonable doubt
remained as to Numar's actually being a
man from another planet .only served to

AMAZING STORIES

heighten the mystery and the interest. The
two greatest news stories of modern times
had been Lindbergh's flight to Paris and
birth of the Dionne quintuplets. But Nu-
mar's alleged arrival on earth from a planet
a trillion miles away was the new Pulitzer
prize winner. No story of crime or passion,
war, world peace or taxation could com-
pete.

"Tell us more!" was the cry which went
up on all sides. "If he can't be photo-
graphed, what's he look like? Is the body
of the green man different from ours? Does
he really live on air and water? How does
he generate his power? Can't somebody
find his space ship? What does Numar
think of us? Tell us every move he makes.
When is he going to speak in Chicago. We
want to know!"

BIG HANK MORRISON, publicity di-
rector of the University of Chicago,
was sick at heart. His institution had
yielded to the hues and cries of its alumni
and restored the venerable game of football
to the school's sport curriculum. For some
years brawn had been discarded for intel-
lect but now, brawn had been invited to
participate, once more, in the cultural life
of Chicago University. After all, the rev-
enue from such games as football and
basketball had paid many professors' sal-
aries in numerous colleges and why
shouldn't the University of Chicago enjoy
the fruits of such physical labors? Perhaps
it had been wrong to place undue emphasis
upon brain over brawn. The great athletes
of the country usually became leading in-
surance, stock and automobile salesmen, if
not movie stars or radio sports announcers.
Could any mere intellectual hope for such
post-graduate success? This was the false
reasoning which had brought football back
to the campus of Chicago University.

Why, then, should Big Hank Morrison
be sick? He was seated in his office, lean-
ing his double chin on one pudgy hand and
staring glumly at the season's football
schedule, now half played. Standing beside
him was Robert M. Hutchins, university
president.

"It's murder!" moaned Hank. "We
should have stuck to tiddly-winks. Our
boys need more seasoning. This is too much
to expect. They haven't scored even one
touchdown against all opposition. And next
Saturday, we take on Notre Dame! . . .
There won't be anyone at Soldier Field

but the ushers! How can I ballyhoo a
slaughter like this?"

"I know," said the president. "It's to
be expected. No matter how good our
team might become. We shouldn't have let
those alumni line up such a schedule!"

"Well, we're in it now and we're losing
our shirt," said Hank, shifting his double
chin to the palm of his other hand. "There's
no sense in playing the game. The score's
bound to be about 30 to 0 — and our gate
will be lower than zero!"

"The gate is what worries me," said the
president. "The cost of maintaining a los-
ing team is appalling. And booking this
game with Notre Dame at Soldier Field
was frightfully bad judgment."

BIG HANK MORRISON got to his feet,
which was, in itself, a major Opera-
tion. He exerted himself still further by
walking to the window overlooking the
campus. There he leaned his three hundred
pounds on She window sill.

"I wish I could think of some way to
pack that field with spectators," he said.
"Our team can't perform miracles even with
Notre Dame as an opponent . . . but if we
could get some extra added attraction . . .
Wait a minute!" Big Hank rumbled back
to his desk and picked up the evening
paper. "I've got it!" he cried, and pointed
to the streamer headlines.
MAN FROM ANOTHER PLANET
TO SPEAK TO EARTH PEOPLE
FROM CHICAGO!
"This'll do it!" he cried. "Every Notre
Dame game is broadcast from coast to
coast — and this green man says he's com-
ing to Chicago to deliver a world message! "

"I don't seem to get the connection,"
said the president.

"Connection!" Big Hank hit the desk
with his fist. "The connection is perfect!
What better opportunity can he get than
appearing before a crowd of a hundred
thousand people and saying what he has to
say on the radio between halves!"

A little bell began ringing in the presi-
dent's mind.

"I see," he said. "But what makes you
think a man with the background Numar's
supposed to have would even consider
such . . .?"

"Where can he ever get a bigger listen-
ing audience?" retorted Big Hank, reach-
ing for the phone. "Someone in every
family listens to football. I'm sure the

THE ©REEN MAN

sponsors of Green's Vitamin-plus Spinach
won't object. I'm going to try to get this
Numar on the phone and make him a
proposition."

"But if he should turn out a fake?"
asked the president.

"After the stir he's already caused," said
Big Hank, "he'll still be the biggest draw
in the country. Everybody will want to
hear and see him. We'll fill Soldier Field
to over-flowing!"

The president of Chicago University sat
down and looked speculatively into space.

"Yes," he said, half talking to himself,
"I believe you're right. We could recoup
our season's financial losses in one after-
noon. Besides, such a feature would be
consistent with our progressive attitude in
education. It's entirely appropriate that we
should welcome a being like this from an-
other planet. I might even introduce him
to the radio audience myself!"

"Now, you're cooking with modern uten-
sils! " said Big Hank. Then, into the phone,
"Long distance, get me the home of Pro-
fessor W. R. Bailey in LaCanada, Cali-
fornia." Turning back to the president;
"It'll be a round-the-world hook-up. This
game is being broadcast to all the boys in
the service. I tell you, Bob Hutchins, if I
can put this over, I've had the brain storm
of the century!"

TN NEW YORK CITY, Clifton Fadiman
A put aside his set of the Encyclopedia
Britannica.

"I can't find any record," he said, "of
any being from another planet ever having
landed on this earth. If this Numar is
really the first, he should be written up for
our new edition. . . . Why, what's the
matter with me? He should be our next
guest on the 'Information, Please' pro-
gram!"

Mr. Fadiman crumpled a list of possible
guest stars which included the names of
Wendell Willkie, Clare Booth Luce, Doro-
thy Thompson, Eleanor Roosevelt, John L.
Lewis, and Thomas E. Dewey. He filed
this list for future reference.

"This Numar's the talk of the country,"
he said. "He's put all our local celebrities
in the shade for the time being. He should
be terrific on 'Information, Please.' What
a set of questions we can ask him!"

Mr. Fadiman reached for the phone.

"Sorry," the operator finally reported.
"Professor Bailey's line is temporarily dis-

connected."

Undaunted, the country's leading ex-
ponent of literature, culture and intellectu-
alism wrote out a telegram. It read as fol-
lows:
Numar,

Visitor from the Planet Talamaya,
care of Prof. W. R. Bailey,
LaCanada, California

Will you and Astronomer Bailey appear
as guests on our "Information, Please"
program this week in New York? We will
furnish plane transportation. Your answers
to our questions can enlighten the world.
We will pay you each five hundred dollars
and a set of the Encyclopedia Britannica.
For your information, we have one of the
highest Crosley ratings on earth and can
promise you a big listening audience.
Please wire acceptance to Clifton Fadiman,
Box "57 Varieties," New York City.

TN WASHINGTON, D. C, Alfred B.

Hoolihan, famous isolationist Senator,
was in need of something to restore him
to public favor and the national limelight.
Since extolling the virtues of "America
First," he had been consigned to political
oblivion with entry of the United States in
the world war and participation in inter-
national affairs. But reading the account
of Numar's arrival on earth gave Senator
Hoolihan a tremendous inspiration.

"I may have been blind to the global
trend but I can see now," he said, "that
the next step forward in civilization is
going beyond the mere international! It's
going to be inter-planetary? . . . There's
a day fast approaching when our 'good
neighbor policy' will be extended to neigh-
boring planets . . . and my being the first
to advance this idea in Congress will estab-
lish me, once more, as a man of vision and
foresight!"

The Senator pondered deeply for a mo-
ment.

' "I know what I'll do! I'll go before
the Senate and propose that this visitor
from the planet Talamaya be invited to
address Congress in a joint meeting of
the two houses. This green man should
also be taken to the White House to meet
the President. And of course, I'll go along
as his personal escort. This will give me
an excellent opportunity to mend my po-
litical fences. How can I be accused any
longer of isolationism when my policy now
takes in the entire universe?"

AMAZING STORIES

TTACK in LaCanada, California, over-
burdened telephone and telegraph
operators wished wearily and fervently that
this visitor from another planet had picked
some other place to land. Phone calls and
telegrams, even radiograms from abroad,
were coming in at a rate beyond their ca-
pacity to receive. Old Uncle Joe, seventy-
year-old Western Union boy, had gone to
bed with hot water bags on his legs to
soothe the aching muscles occasioned by
thirty-seven trips to and fromProfessor Bai-
ley's home, carrying stacks of wires each
time. In fact, the current supply of tele-
graph blanks had been used and messages
now were being written out on yellow copy
paper. Jim Taber, retired telegraph opera-
tor, had been called back on duty to help
decipher the rush of messages, variously
addressed to: "Numar," "Man From Oth-
er World," "Unearthly Visitor," "Green
Man," "The Power Invisible," "Super
Man," "Space Traveler" and the like.

Communications were from many known
as well as unknown humans from every
walk of life. These hundreds of telegrams
and recorded phone calls were piled high
on the Baileys' dining room table and over-
flowed upon the floor. They were being
opened and sorted by Betty who was now
putting her former stenographic training
to good use.

"You see, Uncle," she said, "If you'll
just let me, I can really be quite helpful.
Mister Numar needs a secretary the worst
way . . . someone he can trust — like me.
He's getting some perfectly wonderful of-
fers — but I don't want him to accept any
until he talks to M.G.M. . . . And, speak-
ing of M.G.M., the talent scout is outside
right now. He's gone off and had dinner
and come back again. Won't you let me
bring him . . .?"

"No I" said the Professor. "Mister
Numar has stated emphatically that he
will have nothing to do with pictures! . . .
What messages are those you have in your
hand?"

"Oh," said Betty, referring to a packet
of several dozen wires. "These are the
pick of the lot — what seemed to me most
important. If Mister Numar wants to — he
can certainly make a lot of money while
he's here . . ."

"What good would our money do him on
his planet?" asked the Professor.

"That's right. I hadn't thought of that,"
said Betty. "Well, maybe he'd like the

publicity, anyway. He must want some-
thing! Everybody does/"

TV/TRS. Bailey had resigned herself to a
life of continuous pandemonium.
She felt almost as though she were bar-
ricaded against the world which was apt
to break in upon her any moment. But
perhaps tonight would bring an end to all
this nonsense and the exposure of Numar.
Three of her husband's most respected and
most distinguished scientific friends were
coming over to interview this self-an-
nounced earth visitor. Surely such promi-
nent authorities as Dr. Edward Kruger,
biologist; Jeffrey Larabee, electrical engi-
neer, and Professor Horace Weldon, astron-
omer and physicist, would not have any
wool pulled over their eyes. Their reputa-
tions meant too much to them. They
should be able to see through the clever
practices of this artificial green man and
save her husband from any further embar-
rassment.

"William," said Mrs. Bailey. "The first
sensible thing you've done is to let these
authorities see Numar. Once they've passed
judgment on him, you won't have to spon-
sor him like you've been doing. I think
Mister Numar will be glad to perform
another magical trick and put on a dis-
appearing act!"

"Nellie," said the Professor, "you just
don't believe in anything, do you, unless
it's as plain as the nose on your face?"

"You leave my nose out of this!" said
Mrs. Bailey. "You've been looking at the
stars for so long that you need somebody
to help keep your feet on the ground. I'm
doing the best I can!"

"^TUMAR, himself, seemed glad to give
^ an audience to Professor Bailey's fel-
low scientists. He greeted them graciously
as they were escorted inside the house by
the police officer on duty.

Dr. Kruger, the biologist, was a man of
perhaps sixty, reserved and coldly calcu-
lating. Mr. Larabee, the electrical engi-
neer, had reached the three-score-and-ten
mark and retained an energetic, penetrat-
ing interest in his work. Professor Wel-
don, the physicist, had gained fame in
astronomy as an avocation. He belonged
to the school which believed there was
only one substance in the universe, ex-
pressed through an infinite variety of
forms. He was the youngest of the three

THE GREEN MAN

men at fifty-five, and towered over them
physically with his six feet, six inches.

The three scientists made an interesting
appearing group as Professor Bailey closed
off the living room so that they could be
alone with Numar. The first few moments
were extremely awkward as each caller
tried to avoid staring at the Professor's
house guest.

Numar seemed to sense this self-con-
sciousness for he said, pleasantly. "I am
accustomed to this kind of interview, gen-
tlemen. It may help you to know that
I am as interested in studying you as you
may be in studying me."

Dr. Kruger laughed. "Yes, of course!
It ought to work both ways."

"You'll have to pardon us, Mister
Numar," said Mr. Larabee. "Talking to a
man from another planet requires a little
mental adjustment. I have a great many
questions I'd like to ask you but I want to
be sure they're intelligent."

Professor Weldon eyed Numar, criti-
cally. "I suppose you're prepared for us
to query you pretty frankly," he said.

"I am," replied Numar, "and I will an-
swer everything I permissibly can."

"What do you mean 'permissibly'?" de-
manded Dr. Kruger.

"I mean," said Numar, quietly, "That
there is certain knowledge you human crea-
tures are not supposed to have on this earth
until you have reached a greater evolution.
I am forbidden to give you any such knowl-
edge should you chance to ask me."

The three scientists exchanged consult-
ing glances.

"Will you let us examine you phys-
ically?" asked Dr. Kruger.

Numar smiled and shook his head.
"Sorry. I must refuse."

"Then you place us at a disadvantage at
the very outset," said Dr. Kruger, bluntly.
"We are naturally curious and anxious to
learn all we can about you."

"That's true," said Mr. Larabee. "We
understand you have strange electrical
powers. As an engineer, that particularly
interests me."

"The green pigment of your skin," said
Professor Weldon. "That's most extraor-
dinary. I hope you realize, Mister Numar,
that much depends upon the report we
make about you to the public. If you
really have a message to deliver to the
world, our endorsement can mean a great
deal."

Numar nodded. "I appreciate that. I
can explain this much. This apparel that
I seem to be wearing is a part of my being
while I am on this journey. It is a pro-
tective covering and has high vibratory
qualities. For this reason, it cannot be
removed."

"So that's it!" said the Professor. "I
wondered why they didn't tear that robe
off you in the rush outside! Well, well!
Fancy that!"

"You gentlemen may examine my hands
if you like," said Numar.

' I ^HE three scientists stood up and ad-
vanced toward Numar, eagerly. He
arose and extended his hands to them.

"Look out!" warned Professor Bailey.
"You're apt to get a shock!"

"No," said Numar. "I am controlling
these forces. They will feel nothing."

Dr. Kruger and Mr. Larabee took hold
of Numar's right arm while Professor Wel-
don examined the left. They exclaimed
almost together.

"He's green, all right. A different feel-
ing to his flesh, too. Extremely firm. Notice
the fingernails. You can't see through them.
They are a darker green. He seems to have
a higher body temperature. Strange, there
aren't any veins showing. He doesn't seem
to have pores!"

These comments had come, one on top
of the other.

"It's possible, of course," said Dr. Kru-
ger, "that this is some unusual green dye
which has been applied so skillfully, al-
most like a veneer, that we can't ordinarily
detect veins or pores. However, if this
green dye is coated over the entire body,
you gentlemen realize that no human could
live. You will note the same green texture
in the face. Why, even his lips and teeth
are green! It hardly seems probable that
any man would go to such extremes to
perpetrate a fraud. I've certainly never
seen anything like this."

"Nor I," said Mr. Larabee. "Perhaps
we can judge him best by checking on
these electrical forces he's supposed to pos-
sess. Would you object to letting us feel
something, Mister Numar?"

"Now, Jeffrey!" said Professor Bailey.
"You don't know what you're asking!
You're not as young as you used to be.
Better be careful I Your system may not
be able to stand it!"

"Fiddlesticks!" said the seven ty-vear-

AMAZING STORIES

old electrical engineer. "I've felt some
good, heavy shocks in my time." He
turned to Professor Weldon who was hold-
ing Numar's left hand. "How about it,
Horace? Would you like to have Mister
Numar . . .?"

"Very much!" said Professor Weldon,
tightening his grip.

"And you, Edward?" asked Mr. Lara-
bee, turning to Dr. Kruger who had
Numar's right hand.

"Certainly!" said Dr. Kruger. "I'm here
to go as far as Mister Numar will permit."

"There's room for you here, William,"
proposed Mr. Larabee. "You can take
hold of Numar's left arm with Horace."

"No, thanks," said Professor Bailey. "If
you don't mind, I'll just step over here out
of the way." He moved over toward the
door and put a chair between himself and
the group. "I wish you'd take my word
for this!" he added, apprehensively.
"You're going to feel something, all right!"

Mr. Larabee gave Professor Bailey an
annoyed glance. "William," he said, "I'm
disappointed in you. Any true scientist
must investigate at first hand." He turned
back to the group. "Now, is everybody
ready?" he asked.

"Ready!" chorused Dr. Kruger and Pro-
fessor Weldon.

"Now, Mister Numar," said Mr. Lara-
bee, "would you mind . . .?"

pROFESSOR BAILEY hid his face in
* his hands. He had scarcely done so
when three men, past middle-age, left the
floor of his living room and flew in three
different directions. Dr. Kruger came down
with a crash on the piano keys. Professor
Weldon thudded against the bookcase and
brought scientific volumes raining down up-
on his head. Mr. Larabee landed on top
of the davenport and disappeared from
sight between it and the wall.

Numar stood, quiet and composed, in
the center of the room. An awful stillness
followed.

"You see what I meant?" said the Pro-
fessor.

Professor Weldon untangled his long
frame, sat up on the floor and rubbed sev-
eral bumps on his head. "You shouldn't
put such heavy books on those higher
shelves," he said. "It's dangerous!"

Dr. Kruger had slid off the piano, look-
ing scared and sheepish. "Your piano may
need tuning." he said.

Mr. Larabee's head now appeared from
behind the davenport. "What power!"
he exclaimed. "I don't blame you, Pro-
fessor. Once is enough!"

There was a rap on the door. It was
Mrs. Bailey. "What on earth is going on
in here?" she asked.

"Nothing, dear," said the Profesor. "Just
a little scientific experiment."

"Well, it sounded like the house was
coming down," said Mrs. Bailey. "Why,
look at this room! Those books on the
floor! Why, Mr. Larabee! What are you
doing behind that davenport?"

Mr. Larabee looked foolish. "Well, upon
my soul! How did I get over here?"

Mrs. Bailey went out and shut the door.

The Professor turned to his three fellow
scientists. "Let's see now — where were
we?" he asked.

"The question is — where are we?" said
Dr. Kruger. "I'll feel that jolt for days.
If we could get beneath that man's robe,
I'm sure we'd find an electrical device of
some sort. Possibly a new invention! "

"I'm not so certain!" said Mr. Larabee,
as he straightened the davenport. "That
didn't feel like any shock I ever felt before.
I'm about ready to believe . . ."

"Now, don't be too hasty!" said Pro-
fessor Weldon. '■We've got to think this
thing through. I'm inclined to believe with
Edward. It seems too incredible . . .1"

"What's the matter with you two?" de-
manded Mr. Larabee. "You know that ani-
mals give off electricity. Take the electric
eel, for instance. Take our own brains —
we've already proved they give off electric
impulses! Why^couldn't a man from an-
other planet have a power like this?"

"Well, it defies all known laws of biolo-
gy!" said Dr. Kruger.

"Yes — and physics!" said Professor Wel-
don.

"But not of electricity," said Mr. Lara-
bee. "No, gentlemen, I'm prepared to state
that this Numar is the genuine article. I
can't explain how he generates his power
but I certainly can testify to it! "

DR. KRUGER and Professor Weldon
looked worried.
"Do you realize what you are saying?"
they asked. "Are you willing to risk your
professional reputation?"

Mr. Larabee fairly bristled. He shook
an agitated finger in the faces of his two
colleagiies. "Bah! for you and your repu-

THE GREEN MAN

tations!" he said. "Did you feel this elec-
tric shock, or didn't you?"

"It may have been hypnotism," said Dr.
Kruger.

"That's true!" said Professor Weldon.

"It must have been hypnotism! Maybe
his skin isn't green at all. Maybe he's got
everybody hypnotized! Maybe we'd bet-
ter be getting out of here ! " Professor Wel-
don started edging toward the door.

"That's a good idea," said Dr. Kruger.
"I've got another appointment, anyway."

Mr. Larabee stood his ground. "What
kind of scientists are you?" he demanded.
"You didn't come here with open minds.
You'd decided beforehand that Kumar was
a fake. Now that you've found out differ-
ently, you don't dare admit it! "

"We're entitled to our opinions," said
Professor Weldon. "Good night, William."
He started to go through the door, forgot
to stoop and produced another lump on his
head. "My advice to you is to get rid of
this person as fast as you can! "

"Yes," said Dr. Kruger, as he followed
Professor Weldon out the door. "This as-
sociation is doing you no good. No good at
all!"

"Mister Numar," said Mr. Larabee, fac-
ing Professor Bailey's silent house guest. "I
apologize to you for my fellow scientists.
That's the trouble with us human creatures
on this earth. We get so steeped in our own
little egos and little knowledge that we
think we know it all. I don't wonder that
you aren't permitted to tell us much. Most
of us refuse to believe even when we do
see!"

Numar nodded, understandingly. "That
was true of my species millions of years
ago," he said. "This attitude will change
in time."

"I hate to look ahead that far," said Mr.
Larabee. "It hurts my brain." Then, turn-
ing to Professor Bailey, "Well, William-
all I can say is — I admire you for being
a martyr to science. Some day — when we
are traveling by rocket ship to the moon
and distant planets — perhaps your name
will be remembered and revered. But don't
expect any recognition in your life-time!"

Mr. Larabee shook Professor Bailey's
hand.

"Good night, dear friend. And goodbye,
Mister Numar. I hope you don't think too
unkindly of us humans."

Numar smiled. "I knew what you were
like before I came here," he said.

"You did!" said the country's most es-
teemed electrical engineer. "Then, if I may
ask — why the hell didn't you stay away?"

r 1 ""HERE was a ladder resting against the
* side of Professor Bailey's house just un-
der the guest room window. The figure of
Betty was at the window, stealthily giving
instructions to the man below.

"It's the only way I can see you," she
called down. '"You'll never get in the
house."

"You're sure we won't be detected?"
asked the man.

"No," assured Betty. "My aunt's gone
to bed with an ice pack on her head and
Uncle's tied up with those scientists and
Mister Numar!"

The man started climbing the ladder.
"I've done lots of things to get talent in my
time," he said, "but never anything like
this!"

"Isn't it thrilling!" said Betty. "It was
awfully nice of that policeman to help you
with the ladder."

"Wasn't it?" said the M.G.M. talent
scout. "I helped him— with ten bucks!"

"Oh, well," said Betty. "I suppose it's
all in the business. That's what's so won-
derful about this country. Everybody helps
everybody else."

The talent scout reached the window
ledge and looked down. He swayed and
caught himself. "It makes me dizzy to be
up high," he said. "Let's talk fast, Miss
Bracken."

"Why, I'll talk just as fast as you want
me to," said Betty. "What shall I say?"

"First," said talent scout Sid Alex, "did
you get Numar's consent to go in pictures?"

"Well, — no," said Betty, "not exactly —
but he's given his consent to about every-
thing else."

Mr. Alex took a good hold of the ladder.
"What do you mean by that?"

"Well," replied Betty, "He's going on the
Sackswell Coffee House Hour Tomorrow
night, in Hollywood, with Frank Morgan —
and right after the show, he's taking a plane
for New York City with Professor Bailey!"

The talent scout braced himself, un-
steadily. "What's Numar going to New
York for?"

"Clifton Fadiman sent for him," said
Betty. "He's going to be on 'Information,
Please'!"

"And then what?" demanded the man
from M.G.M.

AMAZING STORIES

"Oh, then," said Betty, "he's going to
Washington to talk to Congress and see the
President ... Oh, Mr. M.G.M.! ... You
almost fell!"

Mr. Alex leaned heavily against the lad-
der "Ye Gods! " he said, "What publicity!
Why, the man will be a world sensation!
I've got to sign him up. Is he coming back
to the coast?"

"Yes," said Betty, "but he's stopping off
in Chicago first to attend a football game!"

"Football! What's he know about foot-
ball?"

"He doesn't have to know anything. He's
just making a speech between halves.
They've promised him the greatest radio
hook-up in history!"

"When was all this arranged? Who man-
aged this?"

BETTY rolled her eyes. "Well, I guess
I helped some. I opened up the tele-
grams and picked out what looked good to
me and went in and read them to Mister
Numar — and he told Uncle William to wire
these people that he'd be glad to accommo-
date them."

The talent scout groaned. "And I've been
hanging around here for hours trying to get
a look-in," he said. "Do you call yourself a
friend of mine?"

"I'm awfully sorry," said Betty, "but pic-
tures are the one thing Mister Numar
doesn't go for. I think he must have taken
a bad photograph at one time."

"Just the same," decided Mr. Alex, "I'd
better stick close to him in case he changes
his mind. If any other studio should grab
him off, my name would be 'mud'."

"Oh, we wouldn't want that to happen!"
said Betty.

The ladder began to shake from below.
M.G.M.'s talent scout clutched the window
sill to steady it. "Hey!" he called down.
"What's the idea! Let go! Stop it!"

"It's another man," said Betty. "It's so
dark down there, I can't make out . . . ! "

"Is that Miss Bracken up there?" cried
a voice.

"Why, yes!" acknowledged Betty, sur-
prised. "Who are you?"

"My name's Schwartz from Warner
Brothers," said the voice. "The New York
office just wired me to look you up. Why
didn't you report for your screen test?"

"Oh, Mr. Schwartz!" exclaimed Betty.
"Come right up!"

The ladder began to tremble under his

added weight. "Thank you," said the
voice. "I don't mind if I do!"

"Well, I do mind!" said the aggrieved
Mr. Alex. "You stay away from here, Sam!
I got here first I"

"Why, hello, Sid, old boy!" said the
Warner scout. "Fancy meeting you here! "

"My!" said Betty, "I wish I could invite
you both in but I guess you know what's
been going on here. I suppose, Mr.
Schwartz, you saw my pictures in the pa-
pers?"

"Yeah. But that guy making love to
you didn't photograph so good. My com-
pany's interested in him, though. I got or-
ders to sign you both up!"

"Now, wait a minute!" said M.G.M.
"You can't muscle in here!"

"We can't, eh?" said Warner. "We got
a line on this Baby first! We gave her a
letter promising a screen test if she'd come
to Hollywood."

"Did you sign her on an option?" asked
M.G.M.

"No, not yet," admitted Warners.

".Did you pay her fare here?" asked
M.G.M.

"No," said Warners.

"Then she's in the open market," said
M.G.M. Mr. Alex risked freeing one hand
to reach in his pocket and pull out a con-
tract form which he extended to Betty.
"Here, Miss Bracken — take this and sign
it!"

"Don't you do it!" commanded Mr.
Schwartz, standing on the rung below Mr.
Alex. He waved another contract form.
"You can't trust M.G.M. They hire you
on a seven year contract and you sit in a
hotel room for seven years, manicuring
your nails!"

"Says you!" retorted M.G.M. "Just fill
in that blank space, Miss Bracken! Put
yourself down for two hundred a week to
start!"

"Two hundred a week!" howled Mr.
Schwartz. "Yoil Yoi! What a cheap-
skate! A girl with your sex appeal? Just
fill in that blank space on our contract!
Put yourself down for two-twenty-jive to
start!"

T)ETTY held the two contracts forms in
her hands. She was silhouetted against
the desk lamp behind her. The pupils of
her eyes were learning things. She hesi-
tated — a perfect piece of timing.

"All right— make it two-fifty!" said

THE GREEN MAN

M.G.M.

"Two-seventy-five!" said Warners.

"Now listen!" said Sid, in a low voice.
"You know, Sam, she's not worth it!"

"Who are you kidding!" said Sam, in
Sid's ear. "D'you think I'll let you get the
inside track to Numar?"

"Three hundred you get!" said M.G.M.
"But not a cent more!"

"All right," said Betty, impulsively.
"I'll take itl"

"But I'll give you three-twenty- five/"
offered Warners.

Betty, pen in hand, looked puzzled.

"No, you don't! " said Mr. Alex. "You've
accepted ! You belong to M.G.M. ! "

"That's a lot of baloney!" said Mr.
Schwartz. "You don't belong to anybody
till you sign on the dotted line. And if you
come with. Warners, I'll put you in a pic-
ture with Errol Flynn!"

"Oh, you will!" said Mr. Schwartz.
"Well, we'll go you one better — we'll put
Miss Bracken in one of our pictures where
we use every star on the lot!"

"Well, after all," said Betty, philosoph-
ically, "money isn't everything."

As she signed the M.G.M. contract, Mrs.
Bailey walked into the room.

"Why, Betty Annabel Bracken!" she
said. "I thought you were talking in your
sleep. What are you doing up?" Mrs.
Bailey was flimsily attired in a plain dress-
ing gown, her hair caught up in a coil on
top of her head.

"Oh, Auntie!" cried Betty. "You've
just walked in at the biggest moment of
my career!"

Mrs. Bailey started as she saw the heads
of two gentlemen peering over the win-
dow sill from the top of the ladder.
"Why! " she gasped. "Who are these men?
What are they doing here?"

"They're talent scouts," said Betty,
brightly. "The man higher up is from
M.G.M. and the other one — you can't
quite see all his face from where you are —
is from Warner Brothers. They're both
awfully nice people — but I'm signing with
M.G.M.!"

Mrs. Bailey was thunder-struck. She
placed a hand to her pounding forehead.
"There's too much in this house to watch,"
she said. "I can't keep an eye on your
uncle and on you, too!"

"You don't need to worry, Mrs. Bai-
ley," said Mr. Alex. "We'll take care of
your charming niece. We'll make a star

out of her in time."

1V/TRS. BAILEY came over where she
could get a better view of the two
men on the ladder. "This is a strange
way to do business," she said.

"Well, we didn't want to bother you peo-
ple," explained M.G.M. "You've had such
a busy day." Then, turning to Betty,
"Miss Bracken, how would you like to
make the trip East with your Uncle and
Mr. Numar? I think you could probably
help them a great deal and keeping your:
picture in the papers won't hurt you, either.
We'll be glad to send you along and pay
all expenses."

Betty's face registered delight. "Oh,
Mr. M.G.M. I think that would be won-
derful! Don't you, Auntie?"

"No!" snapped Mrs. Bailey. "I don't
approve of it at all! A young girl like you
running around the country without a
chaperone!"

"But, Auntie— I'll have Uncle William!"
Betty protested.

"Uncle William!" repeated Mrs. Bailey,
scornfully. "If the way he took care of
you at the police station is any sample,
you wouldn't be safe with him a minute!"

"Mrs. Bailey!" called Mr. Schwartz, in
dulcet tones. "May I suggest something?"

Mrs. Bailey stared out at the face in the
shadow. "What is it, young man?"

"From where I'm standing," said Mr.
Schwartz, shifting his feet on the ladder
rung, "You look like a very attractive,
sensible, motherly lady to me. I don't
suppose you get away from home very
much. Have you ever been to New York?"

Mrs . Bailey drew a wistful breath.
"Why, no— I haven't," she said. "The
nearest I ever got was Buffalo, when we
were married. But my husband's been to
New York several times to meetings of his
Astronomy Society."

"Well, there you are," said Mr.
Schwartz. "Did anyone ever tell you, Mrs.
Bailey, that you'd make a good type for
pictures?"

"Mercy, nol" said Mrs. Bailey, and'
blushed.

"It's the truth!" said Mr. Schwartz, in
his most convincing manner. "Miss Brack-
en, will you please hand that Warner
Brothers contract over to your aunt?" '

OETTY wonderingly obeyed instructions.
"Hold on, here!" said Sid in a low

AMAZING STORIES

voice. "Sam Schwartz! What are you up

■ to?"

"You've made a deal," hissed Sam.
"Now I'm going to make one." Then, to
Mrs. Bailey, "Madam — W&rner Brothers
is willing to send you on this trip with
your husband and Mr. Numar, as a chap-
erone for your niece. We'll make pictures
of you enroute and when you come back to
Hollywood, we may make an actress out
of you."

"That's something I wouldn't want,"
said Mrs. Bailey. "But I -mould like a trip
to New York."

"Well, you may change your mind later
so we'll sign you up for the trip and pay
you a hundred dollars a week," said Mr.
Schwartz.

"Why, you louse!" said Mr. Alex. "You
can't do this to me. If anyone's going to
hire Mrs. Bailey, it's M.G.M. Don't sign
that piece of paper, Madam! Sign this
one from me! And put yourself down for
two hundred a week!"

"Two twenty- five I" said Warners.

"My God! " said Sid. "Do we start this
all over again?" Then, to Mrs. Bailey.
"All right, Madam — make it two-fifty!"
He passed up a contract form to the be-
wildered Mrs. Bailey.
. "Don't sign it!" directed Mr. Schwartz.
"I'll pay you two-seventy-five!"

Mr. Alex swallowed. "Three hundred!"
he said, desperately.

"Mrs. Bailey!" called Mr. Schwartz.
"That contract in your left hand is from
Warner Brothers. I was the first one to
see your possibilities. You can't turn me
down. I'm making you my last offer —
three hundred twenty- five per week!"

"Why, Auntie! " gasped Betty, "That's
more than M.G.M.'s paying me!"

"It is!" said Mrs. Bailey, eyes blazing.
"Well, I wouldn't sign with a company
>ike that. Here — give me your pen!"

"But, Mrs. Bailey," cried Mr. Alex, "you
ion't understand!"

"I think I do," said Mrs. Bailey. "I
don't claim to be an actress at all but
my niece here has spent several years at
it and yet you only give her three hun-
dred a week when Warner Brothers is will-
ing to give me three hundred twenty-five
with no experience whatsoever! No won-
der people say thing against Hollywood!"

"Catch me! " said Sid, to Sam. "I think
I'm falling!"

"It's going to be a pleasant trip," said

Sam. "Let's see now — who gets Numar!"

"Now, Betty," said Mrs. Bailey. "I
think you'd better tell these gentlemen
'goodnight.' They can see us tomorrow and
make whatever arrangements are neces-
sary."

The ladder began to shake from below.

"Hey! What's going on up there?" said
a gruff voice.

"It's a policeman," said Sam, looking
down.

Sid chuckled. "Guess they've just
changed the guard. You're first down,
Sam. That'll cost you ten bucks!"

f\N the wall above his bunk, in the quar-
ters of Flight Lieutenant Harry Hop-
per, Kelly Field, Texas, there was tacked
the photograph of a stunning 'blonde. She
was not Betty Grable nor Carol Landis but,
to Harry, she was all pin-up girls softly
molded into one. In other words, she had
all the curves in the right places.

He had met her a year ago, on Broad-
way, when the two of them had been cast
to play bit parts in a shoestring produc-
tion dubbed "Never Too Early To Learn."
Inspired, perhaps by the title, they had
learned to love one another, even though
they received their closing notice the night
the show opened in New York.

"I just know you're going to take Clark
Gable's place in Hollywood!" she had said
to him, with his stardom in her eyes.

"Darling," he said to her. "W'll go to
Hollywood together. You've got every-
thing Betty Hutton's got — and more!"

"Well, at least my name's Betty to start
with," she had said. "And with you to
spur me on, there's no telling to what
heights I may climb ! "

"There's only one shadow that may
cross our paths," Harry had said to her.

"You mean your relatives might object
to our marrying?" she had asked.

"Not only mine, but yours," he had said.
"Uncle Sam! I'd have been in the service
long ago if it hadn't been for my football
knee. My application's been in for avia-
tion and they've called me for a new exam-
ination, next week. If I pass the physical,
we'll have to postpone our Hollywood ad-
venture!"

"Oh, I could wait for you for ages and
ages!" she had told him.

And then had come his country's call!
No more water on the knee. "Fit as a
fiddle!" the examining physician had pro-

THE GREEN MAN

nounced. "You're about as good as they
come!"

And Harry had gone, at once, to camp
— leaving Betty to pursue her career alone.

IT WAS Harry's buddy and room-mate
who first called his attention to a re-
markable coincidence. They had both re-
ceived their wings together. Lt. Ted Macy
was at present attached to the Command-
ant's staff at operational headquarters,
while Harry was leader of a pursuit squad-
ron. Both men were at present in advance
training with ground strafing and combat
tactics being stressed. The days had been
hard and gruelling under a blistering Texas
sun.

Tonight the two young flying officers
were propped up in their bunks, enjoying
a few moments of luxurious ease before
'lights out'. Ted Macy had a copy of yes-
terday's Los Angeles Herald-Express which
one of the boys from that city had passed
on to him.

"Strange thing about that man from an-
other planet," said Ted, as he read the ac-
count. "What do you make of it?"

"I saw it in the San Antonio paper,"
said Harry. "I don't believe it. In the
first place, no genuine visitor from another
world is going to land near Hollywood.
You can bet your bottom dollar that guy's
an actor I"

"Well, he's certainly got them all guess-
ing so far," said Ted, turning the pages.
"Holy smoke! Here's a full page of pic-
tures and the guy doesn't even photograph!
. . . Wait a minute — what's this? . . .
Well, I'll be damned! . . . No— it can't
be! ... But it sure looks like . . . ! What
did you say your girl's last name was?"

Ted was now staring at the picture Harry
had tacked on the wall, comparing it with
some pictures in the paper.

"Bracken," said Harry. "If you must
have particulars — Betty Annabel Bracken.
And for your further information, she
hasn't written me since she flew to Holly-
wood!"

"Well, then, here's the reason why!"
said Ted, tossing Harry the paper.

The future Clark Gable of the screen did
a "take" on this page which registered the
full range of human emotions. He histri-
onically portrayed surprise, horror, indig-
nation, jealousy, anger, mortification, in-
jured pride and, finally — resolute determi-
nation.

"What the hell does she think she's do-
ing?" he exploded.

"Looks like she's trying to imitate Ethel
Barrymore, Betty Davis and Zasu Pitts —
all at the same time," said Ted.

"It's ham to me any way you slice it!"
said Harry. "Plain ham! She needs
someone to manage her — and she needs
that somebody quick!"

"Looks like she got roped in by this guy
Numar," observed Ted. "I don't know
about his being a green man but she's sure
a green dame!"

"This never would have happened," said
Harry, pacing up and down between their
bunks, "if it hadn't been for this war and
my going in the service! That's something
else I've got against the Nazis and Japs!
If I'd only gone to Hollywood with her,
she'd have made out all right."

"What makes you think she isn't doing
all right now?" said Ted. "Could you
have gotten her any bigger publicity?"

"So that's what you call it!" said Harry.
"My girl making a jackass of herself in six
scenes! How did they ever get her to
pose like that! Get a load of that expres-
sion on her face! She looks like she's kiss-
ing a vinegar jug! Can't tell me Numar
was ever in those photos! Wait till I catch
the press agent behind this!"

"Better not move too fast," counseled
Ted. "You notice, don't you, that her.
uncle, Professor Bailey, is mixed up in this?
He's a famous scientist. Even / have heard
of him! This all may be on the level!"

"It can't be!" raged Harry. "I'm going
to get a leave and go to Hollywood and
find out what this is all about!"

TT WAS too late that night to get action
and early the next morning all men in
Harry's squadron were called for maneu-
vers.

"This is a hell of a note!" said Harry,
as he went on the field with Ted. "I don't
feel any more like flying than a submarine
commander. I haven't slept a wink all
night. The more I think of what's hap-
pened to Betty, the madder I get! Nu-
mar's the guy I'm going after. When I
get through with him, he'll wish he'd
never come to this planet!"

Harry climbed into his plane.

"Take it easy," said Ted. "Don't let
it get you down!"

Lt. Ted Macy continued on to opera-
tional headquarters. He was on duty in

AMAZING STORIES

the observation tower with other officers
and their chiefs of staff.

The maneuvers this morning were to be
devoted to ground strafing. A pursuit
squadron was to go out fifty miles over the
desert and come in over a prescribed path,
flying low. The observation tower com-
manded a vista of about twenty miles in
every direction. Several miles distant to-
ward the west, there was a little town. Its
presence was marked by a tall brick chim-
ney, about all that remained of an old
factory site. The returning course led
about a mile from this town, but when the
planes were sighted coming in, one lone
plane was seen to be off course, diving
straight at the chimney.

The commandant caught this plane in
his field glasses.

"It's Hopper! " he exclaimed. "He's cer-
tainly living up to his name! He came so
close to that chimney, he dusted soot off
the top! . . . Look at the damn fool! . . .
He's circling and diving at it again! . . .
Good Lord! . . ." The commandant wiped
a dripping brow. "I thought, that time,
he was going down inside to clean it out!
. . . What's hit that guy? . . . Anybody
know?"

"I do, sir," said Lt. Ted Macy. "A
blonde bomber! She's knocked him cuckoo.
The guy's out there, flying blind. He's so
upset he can't see straight. He's probably
trying to take his feelings out on that
chimney!"

"Call him in!" ordered the comman-
dant. "Flag him down! Get him out of
the sky! ... Oh! ... I can't look! . . .
Did he miss her that time?"
- Flight Lt. Harry Hopper overshot the
field and came so close to the observation
tower that everyone in it fell flat on the
floor. He made a two-point landing and
almost ground-looped, but he waved away
the anxious ground crew and the approach-
ing ambulance. Brought into the presence
of the white-faced commandant, he was
asked, when that officer had recovered his
breath: "Lt. Hopper, explain yourself — if
you can!"

For answer, Harry went into the hip
pocket of his flying suit and pulled out a
crumpled page of pictures from the Los
Angeles Herald-Express. He smacked this
down on the desk of the commandant.

"That explains everything, sir," he said.

The astonished commandant eyed the
photographs. "My God!" he said. "What's

this?"

"Believe it or not, sir," said Harry,
"that's my girl!"

"She seems to be in bad shape," ob-
served- the commandant. "Oh! ... I
see! ... She's supposed to be kissing
someone . . . What's this? ... An in-
visible man? . . . Someone from another
planet? What rotl"

"You see, sir, what I'm up against," said
Harry. "I'm in need of a furlough, sir —
to attend to some urgent personal busi-
ness!"

"Well, your request seems justified,"
said the commandant. "I'll grant you a
five-day leave, to take effect at once."

"Oh, thank you, sir!" said Harry.
"Would it be asking too much, sir, to let
me go in my plane? I've got to get there
in a hurry!"

The commandant considered. "You
really should be disciplined for the good of
the squadron," he said. "But your record
has been exemplary up to this time. I guess
we can afford to overlook it. Take the
plane — but keep in touch with the army air
command wherever you are."

"Thank you again, sir," said Harry, sa-
luting. "I'll come back a new man, sir! "

"If you don't," said the commandant,
eyes twinkling, "Heaven help that chim-
ney!"

THIRST reaction of the world-at-large to
* the startling news story of an earthly
visitation by a being from another planet
was one of skepticism and incredulity.
Those not actually on the scene could not
conceive how the reporters and photog-
raphers could have been "taken in." The
only portion of the news report which gave
more serious-minded readers pause for
thought was the eminent Professor Bailey's
identification with this green man, Numar.

Many people remembered how Professor
Bailey, some years before, had announced
discovery of a new star in the constella-
tion, Capricornus, and had endured the
scorn and ridicule of his fellow astronomers
for some months, until they had eventu-
ally and somewhat shamefacedly substan-
tiated his findings. There was just the re-
mote possibility that Professor Bailey was
right again, and had not been hoodwinked
as was being widely suggested.

While the people of the planet Earth
were embraced in an atmosphere of war,
news of Numar's alleged arrival from the

THE GREEN MAN

planet Talamaya, with an important mes-
sage for human creatures, had reached
■Germany by circuitous routes.

"He can't be a god," a noted German
authority was quoted as commenting. "He
doesn't speak German. And, besides, he's
not an Aryan!"

The reaction in Russia was of interest.
"Numar's visit to a capitalistic country is
to be regarded with suspicion," said an
important Russian official. "If this being
were genuine and if he had a real message
for the masses on this earth, he would have
landed at the Kremlin in Moscow!"

In Japan, Emperor Hirohito was silent
but someone very close to His Imperial
Majesty was recorded as saying: "No Su-
per Being can come to our earth without
permission of The Son of Heaven. The fact
that this gentleman is said to be green re-
veals to us that he, like so many other de-
lightful hoaxes, has been 'made-in- Amer-
ica'!"

The people of China had greeted the
news of Numar's arrival with their age-old
complacency. "Why disturb one's vener-
able tranquility as to whether this honor-
able personage is genuine or not? In a
thousand, years, you may know the an-
swer!"

John Bull in England found this re-
port of an inter-planetary visitor more dif-
ficult to swallow than American brewed
tea.

"It is the kind of hocus pocus," said
George Bernard Shaw, "that one might ex-
pect from our naive American cousins.
They have been in the business of fooling
themselves since they took the country
from the Indians. This green man, I ven-
ture to say, is going to turn out an Irish-
man!"

Australia, home of the boomerang, freely
predicted that this elaborate prank would
boomerang against its perpetrators. "We
know too much about wool in this coun-
try," said a prominent Australian sheep
raiser, "to let our American friends pull
this kind over our eyes!"

In South America, a new revolution was
blamed on Numar's arrival. In Egypt, it
was intimated that this was what the
Sphinx had been waiting for all these years.
And, in South Africa, when the news
reached one of the cannibal tribes, their
chieftain was reported as rubbing his stom-
ach and saying, "Green man! Yum!
Yum!"

PROFESSOR BAILEY was quite per-
turbed over these world reactions. The
fact that his old friend and fellow scientist,
Jeffrey Larabee, had made a public state-
ment declaring that he considered Numar
genuine and the possessor of absolutely
amazing and incomprehensible magnetic
powers, had hardly offset the public con-
demnation of Dr. Edward Kruger and Pro-
fessor Horace Weldon. These latter two
gentlemen, world authorities in their re-
spective fields of biology and physics, had
told of their "shocking" experience and had
gone on record as saying that they were
not qualified to judge "ingenious tricks of
magic." The extreme gullibility of Profes-
sor Bailey was inferred. However, despite
this, he had somehow found the courage to
stand by his strange house guest and even
to agree to accompany him on his local trip
to the Eastern Seaboard of the United
States.

"I may be hypnotized," the Professor
said to himself. "I may not even be in my
right mind, but I have been with this Nu-
mar for the better part of two nights and
two days. In all that time I haven't seen
him take a bite of food. And he's actually
apparently living on air and this distilled
water! I'd like to see even my wife do
that! If he's not from another planet, then
he's the strangest freak of nature ever born
on this earth!"

The Professor was packing some clean
shirts and several changes of ties in his
bag, preparatory to the plane flight he and
Numar were to make, following the Sacks-
well Coffee House radio broadcast that
late afternoon. He had only been up in a
plane once before and that was the time
he had co-operated with the United States
Army in taking pictures of a total eclipse
of the sun. The Professor had been com-
pelled to wear an oxygen mask on that
flight and was so busy with his cameras
that he was hardly able to realize he had
been off the ground.

"I'll be glad to get up in the air again,"
he said to himself. "And I guess Numar
will, too. It's about the only place left
where we can get away by ourselves. I
still haven't had a chance to. talk five min-
utes to him alone!"

There were many important questions of
universal significance which Professor Bai-
ley wished to discuss with this space trav-
eler, once given the opportunity. Just to
think of a being of his profound accom-

AMAZING STORIES

plishments actually present on earth and
no one taking any intelligent advantage of
it! Why, the whole world should be sitting
humbly at his feet, only too willing to
listen and learn! But, instead of this, what
was the public doing?

DEMANDS and offers for Numar were
coming in, not only from radio pro-
grams, picture producers, football promot-
ers and self-seeking politicians — but from
museums, carnival operators, county fairs,
circuses, conventions, luncheon clubs, wom-
en's organizations, firemen's and police-
men's benefits, charity shows, booking
agents, vaudeville managers, and a bewil-
dering host of others, not forgetting and
including a request for a personal appear-
ance at a state hospital for the insane 1

The "thumbs down" given Numar by
two such outstanding scientists as Dr. Kru-
ger and Professor Weldon had been suffi-
cient to chill all other scientific interest. At
the mere suggestion that any other scien-
tist of repute should interview or attempt
to examine Numar, these distinguished gen-
tlemen registered expressions of holy hor-
ror.

"It's quite a problem," said Professor
Bailey, as he reviewed Numar's brief forty-
eight hours on earth. "How am I going to
get the people to take Mister Numar seri-
ously? I have a feeling that they are going
to-make sport of him wherever he goes. I'm
really astonished that he has promised to
appear with Frank Morgan and that so-
phisticated 'Information, Please' group. Of
course, he might be treated a little better in
Congress, but I doubt it! As for his plan-
ning to address the world beween halves of
a football game— well, I suppose Mister
Numar knows what he's doing, but — if he
doesn't— I sadly fear for the conse-
quences!"

Therje was a rap on the Professor's door
and Mrs. Bailey poked her head in. "What
are you doing?" she asked, "making a
speech?"

"Was I talking out loud?" said the Pro-
fessor. "Oh, dear me! What did I say?"

Mrs. Bailey came into the room. "Some-
thing you didn't want me to hear, I pre-
sume. You've been talking to yourself a
great deal lately. You know what that's a
sign of, don't you?"

"Well, Nellie, it's too late to worry about
that now. This pair of socks has a hole
in them and my best tie has a spot on it."

"Don't tell me," said Mrs. Bailey. "/
haven't been wearing them!"

The Professor looked distressed and put
them on the bed. "I wish I was like Mister
Numar," he said. "He just wears what he's
got on from one century to another, as far
as I can figure out."

"Oh, stop talking in millenniums!" said
Mrs. Bailey. "My head's reeling enough
now, as it is!"

HPHE Professor halted his packing and
A looked at her. "I regret having to
leave you behind," he said. "I can't quite
understand why I'm making this trip, my-
self. I know my reputation's probably gone
forever but I'm in this thing now and it
seems that I've got to see it through."

Mrs. Bailey sat down on the side of the
bed. "William," she said, "what would you
say if I said I was going with you?"

Professor Bailey dropped his shaving
mug on the floor. "Why, I'd say, you're
joking!" he said. "You fly in a plane?
Why, you're afraid to look down from our
attic window!"

"Well, I guess, if I have to, I can shut
my eyes," said Mrs. Bailey, "because, dear,
you're not going on this plane trip alone!"

A look of real alarm crossed the Profes-
sor's face. "Nellie, you're not well," he
said. "Let me call a doctor!"

She pulled him down on the bed beside
her. "Now, William, calm yourself. It's all
been arranged. I'm being paid three hun-
dred and twenty-five dollars a week for
making this trip!"

It was a good thing Professor Bailey was
sitting on the bed. "You're — what?"

"I'm going as Betty's chaperone!" she
announced.

"Betty!" fairly shouted the Professor.
"How does she get into this?"

"Well, she's being paid three hundred
dollars a week to go along!"
, The Professor put a hand to his throb-
bing head. "But, what for?"

"For Warner Brothers and M.G.M.!"
she said.

The Professor threw up his hands. "Oh,
this is too much! Nellie, I didn't think it
was in you!"

"Neither did I," said Mrs. Bailey. "I'm
really quite proud of myself!"

The normally mild disposition of Profes-
sor Bailey was having a great strain placed
upon it. "It's a good thing," he said, "that
I'm not given to profanity. To think of my

THE GREEN MAN 91

wife tying up with a picture company!"

Mrs. Bailey's own dander was up.
"That's not any worse than tying up with
Numar!" she said.

"Well," said the Professor, forlornly.
"This is all quite beyond me. I may as
well take things as they come." He looked
at her, testily. "But it would help," he
said, "if you'd mend this hole in my sock
and take this spot off my tie."

Mrs. Bailey hesitated a moment, then
picked up the articles mentioned. "I hate
to think of doing this on my salary," she
said. "But I guess, after all, I'm still your
wife! "

'""PHE Sackswell Coffee House Hour was
broadcast from Hollywood at five in
the afternoon. That meant seven o'clock,
Chicago time, and eight p.m. New York
time. Its program, starring the popular
comedian, Frank Morgan, commanded one
of the country's big listening audiences. A
standard feature of the show had been
presentation of a genuine authority in some
business, art or profession who would be
introduced to Mr. Morgan after Frank had
told an impossible story of his own achieve-
ments in this field.

Tonight, the sponsors of Sackswell Cof-
fee were patting themselves on the back.
They had secured, on short notice, perhaps
the freak attraction of all time. Numar,
the man from another planet, was to be
interviewed and then introduced to the
show's comedian who would carry on from
there. Mere newspaper and radio an-
nouncement that Numar was to appear on
the program had the country by the ears.
One didn't have to believe in him to want
to hear him speak and to see the fun Frank
Morgan would have at his expense. It
promised to be an early evening high spot
in radio dialing.

Seats for the broadcast were snapped up
in no time, and a crowd of several thou-
sand radio fans had gathered outside the
broadcasting station in Hollywood an hour
before the program was scheduled to go on.

It had been a hectic day for everyone in
the Bailey household as preparations had
been completed for the trip East and addi-
tional telegrams and telephone calls had
been attended to. Chief Andrews had suc-
ceeded in keeping Numar under cover al-
though a curious throng milled around and
about the Bailey residence, many people
still wanting "to be healed."

It was with a feeling of great relief,
therefore, that Chief Andrews welcomed
the arrival of two big limousines with police
escort at four p.m., one from M.G.M. and
the other from Warner Brothers studios.
Each limousine contained, in addition to
the liveried chauffeur, an important, agres-
sive appearing individual. Talent scouts
Sid Alex and Sam Schwartz got out of
their company's cars and stood glaring at
one another.

"Well," said Sid, "I suppose you think
you're going to take Numar in your car!"

"I certainly am!" said Sam. "It's all
been arranged with Mrs. Bailey."

"Nothing doing!" said Sid. "I've ar-
ranged everything with Miss Bracken. Be-
sides, I don't trust you with Numar alone! "

"And I don't trust you!" said Sam. "So,
it's mutual!" ■

"Let's toss a coin!" proposed Sid, flip-
ping one in the air. "Heads, / win; tails,
you lose!"

"Okay!" said Sam. "Toss it again . . . !
Hey! What did you say? . . . Hold on,
there! . . . Heads you win — tails / win! ..."

"Well, have it your own way — I was only
trying to give you a break! . . . Here we
go!" Sid threw the coin into the air,
caught it deftly and turned it over on the
palm of his hand. "Heads, it is. Tough
luck, Sam, old boy. Numar rides with
met"

"Wait a minute!" Sam reached out
quickly and grabbed the coin, turning it
over. "You chiseler! It's heads on both
sides!"

"Well, what do you know!" said Sid,
unabashed. "It beats all what the Treas-
ury is turning out now-a-days!"

VXTTHILE the two were still arguing,

* * Chief Andrews emerged from the
house, breaking a way through the crowd
for Numar, with Betty walking brightly by
his side, followed by Mrs. Bailey in her
Sunday best, with Professor Bailey man-
fully bringing up the rear as he lugged
two suitcases.

Numar hesitated between the two cars.

"This way, Mister Numar!" said Sid,
bowing in his most ingratiating manner.

"Over here!" invited Sam.

Seeing his apparent indecision, the two
men ran, as if with one thought, to assist
Professor Bailey wiith his bags.

"Follow me, Professor!" said Sid.
"You're riding in my car with Mister

AMAZING STORIES

Numar!"

"No, Professor," said Sam, "you and
Mister Numar are riding with me!"

Each talent scout had one of the Pro-
fessor's bags and raced back to his car
with it, opening the door. Betty and Mrs.
Bailey were forgotten for the moment. The
Professor looked bewildered. Numar took
him by the arm.

"Come," he said, "Chief Andrews is
waiting." The two of them got in the
police car, much to the Chief's astonish-
ment.

"Get in, Miss Bracken," said Sid, de-
jectedly.

"Get in, Mrs. Bailey," said Sam.

"Get in, Chief!" said the Professor, "we
can't very well go without you."

Chief Andrews slid behind the wheel.
"Will / be glad when I get you people
out of town! " he said.

The strange entourage got under way,
led by two motorcycle policemen, who kept
their sirens screeching. They were followed
by the car with Betty and her M.G.M.
representative, Mr. Alex; then the car con-
taining Mrs. Bailey, with her Warner
Brothers' representative, Mr. Schwartz.

There were cheers along the way from
some interested spectators, most of whom
took them for a wedding party. But there
was no happy marriage between M.G.M.
and Warner Brothers. For Sid and Sam,
the honeymoon was over before it had be-
gun. Betty and Mrs. Bailey were the
pawns in a move to win big stakes — and
Numar, the green man from the planet
Talamaya — was the prize!

""IX/HERE in the sacred name of radio
* 'is Frank Morgan?" said Danny
Dingle, director of the Sackswell Coffee
House radio program. He ran nervous fin-
gers through what remained of his hair and
glanced exasperatedly at his wrist watch.
Everyone else connected with the show —
actors, musicians, announcers, sound ef-
fects men, engineers and those too unim-
portant to mention* were standing by.
"He's forty minutes late! That doesn't
leave us enough time to rehearse the show
before we go on the air!"

Danny turned to his secretary who had
been trained to stay on his heels at all
times.

"Miss Salamander — will you please park
your gum for a minute and phone his home
again? Try his ranch, his club, and begin

on the Hollywood taverns! Maybe Frank's
forgotten what day of the week this is!"

"Maybe it's the crowd outside," sug-
gested Miss Salamander, rolling her eyes
and snapping her gum. "Maybe Mr. Mor-
gan can't get into the station! You know
what trouble Mister Numar's party had!"

"That's an idea!" said Danny. "Get on
the loud speaker, somebody — and ask if
Frank Morgan is in the crowd. Ye gods,
if Frank's out in that mob, he'll be lucky
to have any clothes left on him! "

The loud speaker outside the building
was turned on and an announcer's voice in-
quired: "Ladies and gentlemen, has any-
one seen Frank Morgan? Please pass the
word along. We're trying to locate Frank
Morgan. Please help us, everybody! If
Frank Morgan's out there somewhere, he's
needed at the studio right away!"

There was a traffic jam extending for
two blocks in each direction along Sunset
Boulevard, from Vine Street.

"Frank Morgan!" went the cry, passed
from mouth to mouth. "Anybody seen
Frank Morgan?"

"Yes, / see him! " said a fat little woman,
standing up in her car and pointing. "There
he is, over there! I've been seeing him
for half and hour. What a thrill! I've
never been as close to a Hollywood star in
my life!"

The car containing Frank Morgan was
surrounded, no — submerged by autograph
seekers. They were standing on the run-
ning boards, sitting on the fenders and
hood, and one of them had even climbed
into the machine. With traffic at a stand-
still, this was a field day for them.

"Hey, Frank!" someone shouted.
"They're calling for you at the station!"

"Tell them to stop calling and do some-
thing!" said Frank. "If you folks don't
move, / can't move! Don't some of you
have anything else to do? Don't you work
anywhere? Don't you sleep? Are you all
from out of town?"

The crowd laughed good-naturedly but
nobody moved. They couldn't. The tie-
up was up ahead, at the corner of Vine
and Sunset.

"Morgan's been found!" the an-
nouncer reported to Danny Dingle. "He's
sitting in his car on Sunset, near Cahu-
enga!"

"Well, tell him to abandon the car and
get on up here!" ordered Danny.

"Ladies and gentlemen," appealed the

THE GREEN MAN

announcer over the loud speaker. "For
those of you who came late, the Green Man
is already in our studio. We can't let any
more of you in. There isn't room. But
it's getting close to our broadcast time and
our star, Frank Morgan, still isn't here.
He's down at Cahuenga and . . . ! "

This was all the further he got. There
was a general crushing movement of all on
foot in that direction.

"Hey, you people in cars!" cried the an-
nouncer. "Give Frank a break! Help
the police clear a lane for him! Let him
through!"

STANDING at a window overlooking
Sunset Boulevard, in a small reception
room adjoining the studio, Numar and
Professor Bailey had been gazing down up-
on the scene below. They had been ush-
ered into this room upon arrival and told
by Danny Dingle that they would be called
when all was ready for rehearsal. It was
now a quarter to five and Professor Bailey
was getting nervous but Numar showed no
signs of concern. The two of them could
hear the voice of the announcer as it came
out over the loud speaker system, and
watch the reaction of the crowd.

"I'm certainly glad we're out of that
mob," said the Professor. "It's a frighten-
ing thing, Mister Numar, when we human
creatures all take a notion we want to see
something. Just look at them out there!
And to think, you caused all this! . . .
Those cars are commencing to move now.
I guess, since they've found they can't see
you, they're letting Mr. Morgan through.
. . . Yes . . . there he comes! . . . Listen
to them cheer him! That's the way we
Americans are. Let a great scientist or in-
ventor come down the street and he isn't
even recognized. I wonder what you must
be thinking of us!"

Numar smiled, thoughtfully. "You are
creatures of great promise," he said.

Professor Bailey looked at Numar,
doubtfully. "You think so?" he asked.
"Sometimes, I wonder ... 1"

EIGHT minutes before time for the
Sackswell Coffee House Hour to go on
the air, a breathless, disheveled Frank Mor-
gan, minus his tie and a shirt sleeve, reached
the studio.

"It's hell to be popular, but I love it!"
he said. Then, looking around, "Where's
that Green Man? I could kill him! "

"Never mind the Green Man now!" said
director Danny. "You glue your eyes on
this script! You'll barely have time to give
it a 'run-through' before we're on. This
show isn't timed or anything. I don't know
where I'm at. I'm going in and see the
Green Man now and get him set. Meet you
in the studio. If you have a spare moment,
pray for me!"

Danny Dingle rushed from the rehearsal
room to where he had Numar and Professor
Bailey in waiting. He carried a copy of the
script in hand.

"I'm terribly sorry," he said, "but you're
such a terrific attraction, Mister Numar
. . . this crowd and everything ... we won't
have time for rehearsal. You ever been on
a radio show before?"

"Not on this planet," said Numar.

"Oh! ... Oh, yes ... I forgot! Well,
there's not much to it. Your lines are all
written for you, Mister Numar. We got our
data on you from the papers. I think you'll
find it all quite accurate."

Numar took the radio script and turned
its pages with his long green fingers.

"I see. My name appears here in sev-
eral places."

"That's right," directed Danny. "You've,
caught on. All you do is read what's un-
der your name. Don't read anything else."

"You don't wish me to say anything for
myself?" asked Numar.

"Not a word!" said Danny. "You'll ball
everything up, if you do!"

"But what if the words you have written-
do not appeal to me?" asked Numar.
' Danny pulled out a handful of his own
hair. "Well, read it, anyway 1 You're get-
ting paid for this, Mister Numar! Don't
forget that! And you're getting a world of
publicity, besides! You can write your own
ticket after this. Come on, now. We've
just got three minutes. Follow me. We're
going out onto the studio stage. Come
along, Professor. You can sit in the back.".

Danny grabbed Numar by the arm, in-
tending to pilot him. There was a sudden
flash and he went skidding across the floor,
landing in a sitting position against the
wall.

"That damned rug!" he said, jumping
up. "Somebody ought to tack it down ! "

As he reached for Numar's arm again,
Professor Bailey stopped him just in time

It was one minute to five when the
harassed director of the Sackswell Coffee-
House radio program had his cast all as-

AMAZING STORIES

sembled on the stage before an over-flow
studio audience. He took three aspirin
tablets and clapped them in his mouth.

"These should be digitalis," he said to
himself. "My heart's worse off than my
head!"

Seated in the front row, beaming and
waving at Numar and also at the Profes-
sor, was the girl who had come to crash
Hollywood. She sat next to a glowering Sid
Alex, who sat next to a contented Mrs.
Bailey, who sat next to a glowering Sam
Schwartz. The hands of the clock pointed
to five p.m. and the red light flashed on.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said the an-
nouncer. "What is good till the last drip?
. . . One guess! . . . Sackswell C off eel . . ."

COMMERCIAL statements, in this glori-
ous day of radio, must be endured —
but they can be passed over lightly on
paper. Suffice it to say that the entertain-
ment part of the program was eagerly
awaited. More so, today, than at any other
time in the long dripping history of Sacks-
well Coffee!

"And now, ladies and gentlemen," said
announcer Pete Engle. "We have with us
tonight — don't laugh — this is on the level
... if it isn't, so help me . . . the most
extraordinary, the most phenomenal, by all
odds the most sensational celebrity of our
time. He's actually standing beside me at
this moment. Think of it, ladies and gen-
tlemen — Numar, the Green Man, who has
just reached here after traveling a TRIL-
LION MILES— yes, a TRILLION MILES
through space, from the planet Talamaya! "

Numar, under Danny's direction, stood
up, with his script, before a microphone. An
usher held up a card marked, "Applause"
and the goggle-eyed audience beat its
palms.

'"Well, Mr. Numar,'" said Pete Ellis,
following the script, " 'I'll bet, after a long
journey like that, you were glad to find
even the Earth to light upon!' "

"'Yes,'" read Numar, "'This is the
longest distance I have ever travelled for a
cup of coffee.' "

" 'I suppose it would be unfair to ask —
what brand?' " read Pete.

Numar looked up from the script. "Yes,
it would," he said.

Pete Ellis looked frightened. Danny Din-
gle jumped to his feet with gobs of perspira-
tion standing out on his forehead. "I told
you to stick to the script! " he whispered.

"I do not like what is written here," said
Numar. "It doesn't make sense."

"This program's not supposed to make
sense," said Danny, his voice rising. "We
had Einstein last week. He read what was
written. Who do you think you are?"

Danny's voice, in his excitement, had
carried over the radio and the audience was
roaring.

"Well, Mr. Numar, we'll pass on to the
next question," ad libbed announcer Pete
Ellis, hopefully. He read from the script.
" 'Now that you're here, what do you think
of us?'"

"I don't like this answer, either," said
Numar.

"You've got to read your lines," raved
Danny. "We can't produce a radio show
this way. Give him his cue! He can't go
on without the cue!"

A SECOND of silence on the radio is not
golden. Every announcer is trained
to fill in with something — anything — if
things go wrong. If he even starts reciting
the alphabet or counting from one to ten,
it's better than nothing. Pete Ellis was
almost at this stage now. He decided to
make one more try to stay with the script.

" 'Mr. Numar,' " he read, " 'we earth peo-
ple have often wondered, but we've never
actually known — when you passed by the
moon on your way here, did you notice if
it was really made of green cheese?' "

Numar laid his script down and stood,
unspeaking. The audience howled and so
did Danny Dingle but his howl was pitched
in a different key.

"All right," said Pete Ellis to Numar, "if
you want to play, I'll play, too!" and he
tore up his script.

"Get Frank Morgan out here! Get him
on the air, quick!" directed Danny.
"Throw him his cue, Pete! Never mind
Numar!"

"My gosh!" said Pete, groping on the
floor through the torn pages. "Where is it?"

Danny handed Pete his own script and
pointed with his finger. "There!" he said.

The studio audience was rocking and so
was the radio audience, from coast to coast.

" 'That's all very interesting, Mr. Nu-
mar,' " read Pete Ellis. " 'This has been a
most informative interview. It must be won-
derful to travel through space the way you
do, living only on air and water ...!'"

This was Frank Morgan's cue. He came
running to his microphone, script in hand.

THE GREEN MAN

" 'What's that, Jockey? Who's been liv-
ing on air and water? What jail was he in?
I usually get bread in mine! . . . What am
I saying? . . . Where have I been . . . .?
That's the question! Jockey, I've just re-
turned from the most amazing trip through
inter-stellar space ever undertaken by man
or insect! . . . Pete, you may not believe
this, but I've had a drink out of the Big
Dipper! ' "

" 'Oh, Frank! . . . How can you say
that?' "

" 'Well, it's written here . . . ! What am
I saying?' "

" 'The Big Dipper! Of all the impossible,
nonsensical . . . you didn't get anywhere
near it!"'

" 'I didn't?' " said Frank. " 'Why, I even
milked a cow in the Milky Way! ' "

" 'Frank! Be careful what you're say-
ing! There's a man here who really came
from the Milky Way — and you never drank
milk in your life!' "

" 'Now, Jockey, don't interrupt my story
. . . let's see — where was I? Oh, yes! I
passed by Taurus, the Bull, and reached
out and twisted his tail! . . . Then I gave
Venus a hug and kicked Jupiter in the
pants!'"

" 'Frank! I'm trying to tell you! You
see that green man over there?' "

" 'Green man!' " said Frank. " 'Oh, yes!
. . . Green/ . . . What a misfortune!
Well, there I was — sailing through space at
the rate of a million miles an hour! ' "

" 'But, Frank, this Mr. Numar travels
with the speed of light! That's one hun-
dred and eighty-six thousand miles a sec-
ond — or, roughly, six hundred and seventy
million miles an hour!' "

" 'W HAT! • • • You ' re i okin 8 ! ' " 841(1
Frank. "'You can't travel that

fast on hot air! I know! I've tried it!
. . . Jockey, I got so hungry on my trip
through space that I stole the Little Bear's
porridge. Boy, did he get sore! He called
to the Big Bear and said, "Papa, that naugh-
ty man's eaten my porridge! Slap him
down when he goes by!" You see this
scratch on my face? That's what a close
call I had!'"

" 'Frank, do you mean to stand here and
tell us you got that scratch from the Con-
stellation Big Bear?' "

" 'Well, I started from scratch and it's a
good bear story, isn't it?' "

" 'Yes — it's a bear story to end bear

stories! Now, Frank, we've had enough of
your ridiculous, astronomical nights of
fancy. Come down to earth and let us in-
troduce you to a super being who's really
been there ... ! ' "

" 'Ho, ho, ho! You're such a boy! ' " said
Frank. " 'Really been there?' "

" 'Yes, Mr. Numar's come here from the
planet Talamaya, a trillion miles away.' " •

" 'A trillion miles!' " said Frank. " 'Oh,
yes — a mere trillion ... the planet Tala-
maya ... I passed it on my way home.' "

Numar had remained motionless before
the microphone during this banter. He
seemed vastly amused. "Mr. Morgan," he
said, "it would be interesting to know in
what sort of a space vehicle you traveled?"

Morgan stared at his script. He began
searching his pages. "I don't see that line,"
he said, finally. "Where is it?"

Danny Dingle came running up. "Please,
Mr. Numar — say what you're supposed to
say. Look! Here it is, right here!" He
put Numar's script back in his hands and
pointed to the lines.

Numar disregarded it. "I don't like it,"
he said, simply.

"You don't like it!" raged Danny, not
caring whether the radio audience heard it
or not. "And we're paying a gag writer
five hundred dollars a week to write those
lines!"

"All right," consented Numar. "I'll
read the closing words he's written for me.
'Well, folks— I'm glad to have been here
and, as Mae West would say, "Come up
and see me some time"!' "

This was the straw which broke the
camel's back, including Danny's. He gave
Numar a push and tried to pull the micro-
phone from him at the same time.

There was a blinding flash. Danny did
a backward somersault. The audience
screamed. There was a short circuit and
the radio went dead. Engineers in the con-
trol room worked frantically. A quick
switch was made to another studio.

"Ladies and gentlemen," an announcer
said over the air. "Due to technical dif-
ficulties beyond our control, we have been
compelled to leave the Sackswell Coffee
House program which will be with you at
the same time, same station, next week.
Remember — Sackswell Coffee is good to
the last drip— and we do mean — drip I"

IT WASN'T a long hop to Hollywood for
hopping mad Harry Hopper. The

AMAZING STORIES

Flight Lieutenant had entertained himself
by turning his radio on commercial pro-
grams. By coincidence, he had tuned in
on the Sackswell Coffee House broadcast.

"That's the man I'm after!" he said,
when he had heard Numar introduced. The
program itself may have been funny but it
left Betty's boy friend considerably con-
fused. "I can't make the guy out," he
said. "He must be a screw ball right!"

This is about the opinion that the entire
country had of Numar. His unpredictable
conduct during the Sackswell Coffee broad-
cast had everyone guessing. But whatever
people thought about him, he had most
definitely caught the public fancy and was
a lead topic of discussion.

"I don't blame Numar for acting like he
did! " some people said. "If he really came
from another planet, it's disgraceful for us
to be treating him like we are!"

"Numar's clever all right but it's all a
put-up job ! " said the out-and-out skeptics.
"He can't fool us! As for that broadcast,
the show was written that way!"

So the pro and con comments went, every-
where building up more interest in Numar.
Who was this Green Man, anyway? And
what was he? How could anybody tell—
and how could it ever be proved that he'd
come from another planet? Regardless of
all this, what was the mysterious Green
Man going to do next?

In response to the widespread interest,
newspapers kept Numar's name and activi-
ties in the front page headlines, and
photographers still kept on trying to get his
picture!

Clifton Fadiman, in New York, after lis-
tening to Numar on the Sackswell Coffee
program, professed no concern. When
queried by news reporters about Numar's
coming appearance on "Information,
Please," he said: "Our program is made to
order for Mr. Numar, since it is free and
unrehearsed. Everyone knows we let our
guests say what they choose at all times.
Mr. Numar should, therefore, have no dif-
ficulty answering our questions in his own
words!"

In Chicago, Big Hank Morrison, pub-
licity director of the University of Chicago,
was tickled.

"Anything Numar does that gets him
more publicity is all to the good with us,"
he said. "It's like a football. You can do
more with it when it's inflated. We hope
Numar is the sensation of the age when he

reaches Chicago. Incidentally — if any of
you folks would like to get in Soldiers'
Field to see him this coming Saturday,
you'd better buy your tickets now. Every-
thing points to a sell-out!"

T T. HARRY HOPPER decided to set

' his plane down at the Los Angeles
Municipal Airport. It was his intention
to grab a cab and make a bee-line for Pro-
fessor Bailey's home in La Canada. He had
everything memorized that he planned to
say and do.

"I'm going to save her from herself,"
he said. "No girl can do what she is doing
and be in her right mind. She's almost
made me lose mine! "

Harry came shooting through the pass
between the mountains which marked the
approach to the airport. He circled the
field and looked down. There was a big
crowd gathered around an American air-
liner which was about to take-off. Harry
could see little figures boarding the plane.

"Most likely some movie star," he
thought. "Beats all how their fans will
follow them anywhere!"

There were no tall chimneys in the vic-
inity and Harry had nothing to tempt him
on the way down. On getting his signal
to "come in" he landed at a far end of the
airport and turned his plane over to me-
chanics.

"Just in for a couple days," he said.
"Bed this baby down for the night and give
her some oats. I'll be seeing you!"

He ran acrooss the field toward the air
depot. As he passed the crowd surround-
ing the American Air Lines plane, his curi-
osity got the better of him. He couldn't
get close to the plane so he stood on tip-
toe and craned his neck. He saw a daz-
zling blonde, standing on the steps leading
up to the door of the airliner. She was
apparently posing for pictures.

"Who is she?" he asked of those near-
by. "I can't make out from here."

"Who is who?" asked a woman. "Who
are you talking about?"

"That girl!" pointed Harry. "She looks
like Betty Grable!"

"Oh, her!" said the woman. "I don't
know who she is. But that man in the
white robes is Numar!"

Flight Lieutenant Harry Hopper let out
a wild yell and tried to burrow through the
crowd. He was repulsed with angry shoves
and comments. Looking about, Harry saw

Numar and a dazzling blonde were posing for their pictures on the airliner steps

an empty baggage truck. He clambered on
top of it and began to shout and wave his
arms.

"All right, Miss Bracken," said talent
scout Alex. "That's all the picture-taking.
Hurry up and get aboard. We're the last
ones in!"

"Oh, wait just a minute!" said Betty.
"Who is that nice-looking aviator out
there? He seems to be calling to me!"

"Get in the plane! " said Mr. Alex. "It's
late leaving now!"

"Oh, but he's waving to me!" said Betty.
She lifted her arm and fluttered a handker-
chief at the frenzied figure on the truck.
"I suppose it's all right to wave back. One
has to be nice to the boys in the service."

"Get in that plane before I bop you
one!" said Mr. Alex, slightly impatient.

He gave her a push and she got in the
plane. Mr. Alex jumped in after her and
the door slammed shut

A porter began pulling the baggage truck
upon which an almost deranged flying of-
ficer was shouting curses into the air.

"Get off there, boss! I gotta use this
right away! " said the porter.

He began trundling the truck in one di-
rection as the plane went the other. It
taxied down the runway to its take-off
point. Harry still remained on the moving
truck so he could keep the plane in sight.
He saw the face of the dazzling blonde
pressed against one of the plane windows.
Harry shook his fist.

"You can't do this to me! " he shouted.
Then, to the porter, "Where's that plane
going?"

"New York," said the porter.

Harry made a flying leap off the truck
and started running. The mechanics were
just wheeling his plane into a hangar.

"Hold everything!" cried Harry. "Gas
her up! I'm taking off ! "

1V/TRS. BAILEY was delighted with the
interior of the huge transport plane.

"Why, it's just like a home on wheels!"
she said. "And what roomy compart-
ments! Do you mean to tell me, Mr.
Schwartz, that they turn these into beds
when we get up into the air?' "

"They sure do," said Warner Brothers'
representative. "But if I were you, Mrs.
Bailey, I'd fasten that belt around my
waist."

"My goodness!" said Mrs. Bailey.
"What a noise those engines are making!
Can't they do something about that?"

"They're tuning them up before taking
off," said Mr. Schwartz. "Here, let me
help you with your belt!"

Professor Bailey sat in the compartment
just ahead with Numar. Betty was lo-
cated across the aisle in the company of
talent scout Alex.

"I just love flying," she said. "Oh,
Auntie! Just wait until you get up in the
air! I'm going to try to point out your
house to you!"

AMAZING STORIES

Mrs. Bailey shut her eyes and grasped
hold of the seat.

"Don't you suggest such a thing!" she
said.

The American Airliner had swung about
and the pilot was giving her the gun. The
big plane roared down the runway.

"You can open your eyes now," said
Mr. Schwartz. "We're off the ground."

"Oh!" said Mrs. Bailey. "You don't
mean it!" She ventured a look and shut
her eyes again.

"Auntie!" cried Betty, pointing out the
window. "There it is ... ! I believe
that's your house! . . . No, it must be
that other one! ... Wait! . . . This one
looks like ... oh, I guess that's not La-
Canada at all!"

Mrs. Bailey had her eyes half open but
was looking straight ahead inside the plane.
There was a slight tilting motion as it
climbed for altitude. "How soon are we
going to reach New York?" she asked.

"Not till tomorrow a.m." said Mr.
Schwartz.

"Oh, Auntie!" called Betty, "they serve
the most wonderful dinners on this plane!"

"Don't talk to me about food," said Mrs.
Bailey. "I've other things on my mind
just now."

Numar had been sitting quietly, study-
ing the plane's operation and the changing
scenery outside. Professor Bailey was also
intensely interested in the flight, but sud-
denly a strange and troubled expression
crossed his face.

"Mister Numar," he said. "I've just had
a tremendous thought. In your space ship,
according to our concept of time, travel-
ing at one hundred and eighty-six thou-
sand miles a second — you would be in New
Vork almost before you started! I feel like
apologizing to you for our slow rate of
travel!"

Numar smiled. "In time and space all
things are relative," he said. "You will at-
tain greater speed as you find there's a need
for it."

"Then you don't object to this snail's
pace?" asked the Professor.

"Oh the contrary," said Numar, "I'm
enjoying it."

r T" v HE American Airliner made two stops
enroute to New York, one at Dallas,
Texas; the other at Nashville, Tennesee.
All passengers were snugly in their berths
when the big rubber-tired wheels crunched

softly to earth at Dallas but a young and
impatient flying officer from the United
States Army was waiting. He approached
the stewardess.

"How long are you stopping here?" he
asked.

"Five minutes," she replied.
"Is anyone up in the plane?"
"No, sir."

"There wouldn't be a chance of my see-
ing one of the passengers? It's very urg-
ent!"

"Which one?" asked the stewardess.

"Miss Betty Bracken," said the flying
officer. "I'm her fiance!"

"Oh, yes" said the stewardess. "She's
in lower berth four — right hand side. You
haven't much time."

"That's okay," said the lieutenant. "I
just want to give her a message."

"Right this way," said the stewardess.
She led him inside the plane and down the
darkened aisle. "Right here!" she whisp-
ered, and reached inside to touch the sleep-
ing form. "If you'll excuse me — I've got
to pick up some supplies!" The steward-
ess tiptoed back down the aisle and left the
plane. <

The passenger in lower number four had
not stirred. Her caller knelt hesitantly by
the berth and then reached in and shook
her gently by the shoulder.

"Betty!" he called, in a low voice. "Oh,
Betty! This is Harry!"

The blonde head turned on the pillow,
but she did not waken.

Outside came the tell-tale sounds that
the plane monkeys, the men who checked
her over at each landing, were about to
release her for further flight. Harry shook
Betty more urgently.

"Sweetheart!" he said. "Wake up! It's
me — Harry!"

Betty came awake. She saw a hand
through the curtain, touching her shoulder,
and sat upright.

"Help! she screamed. "Help, somebody!
Help!"

"Shut up!" cried Harry. "For gosh sake,
shut up!"

HEADS began to pop out of berths.
Mr. Alex leaned out from his upper
and "konked" the head of the man in
uniform with his shoe.
"Ouch!" said Harry. *As he stood up,
Mr. Schwartz, from the other side of the
aisle, jabbed him in the face with his bare

THE GREEN MAN 99

foot.

"Help!" Betty kept screaming.

Harry did not stop to deliver his mes-
sage. He got out of the plane and cut
across the field to his own ship.

"Betty!" called Mrs. Bailey, "what on
earth . . . ?"

"Oh, Auntie!" cried her niece, "I've just
had a frightful experience!"

"There was a man here to see you," said
the returning stewardess.

"To see me!" said Betty. "He almost
scared me to death! Where did he go?"

"He left the plane. I'm sorry I let him
disturb you. He said it was important."

"Why, the very idea! What did he look
like?"

"He was an army pilot."

"He was!" said Betty. "Oh! Well, then
— maybe I know ... Do you suppose
. . . ?Yes, it must have been . . . ! "

"Must have been who?" asked talent
scout Alex.

"That nice-looking soldier I waved at
when, we left Los Angeles," said Betty.
"My goodness! It just goes to show you've
got to be careful who you encourage these
days!"

"He said he was your fiance," said the
stewardess.

"Well, naturally," said Betty. "He'd say
anything to get in the plane! . . . My
fiance! . . . Now, who could that be?"

T^HE night flight was uneventful after
the passengers had once settled down
from this scare of Betty's. Professor Bai-
ley stayed awake until the early dawn
hours, lying in his berth and looking up at
the entrancing patchwork of his beloved
stars, many of which he knew by name.
Every once in a while he would take hold
of his flesh between his thumb and fore-
finger and pinch it hard.

"I suppose I'll be black and blue in the
morning," he said to himself. "But it still
seems incredible to me that I could be
going through an experience like this! My,
this plane must be making over two hun-
dred miles an hour! That seems awfully
fast to me. It's wonderful to be up here
with the feeling you get that you're so near
the sky. I can only imagine the sensation
which must be Numar's as he whizzes
through space! When he passes a planet,
it would seem to be standing still, although
we know our sun is rushing through space,
taking our whole solar system with it, at

the rate of seven hundred miles a minute!
... I wonder where all these universes are
going — and why?"

Professor Bailey reminded himself that it
was questions like these he wished to ask
Numar when and if they could find some
quiet place of solitude on earth.

Mrs. Bailey had overcome some of her
early misgivings about being up in a plane
and, since the night was clear and the air
smooth, she had enjoyed a good sleep.

"Where are we now?" she asked Mr.
Schwartz, when she had risen in the morn-
ing, astonished to find an appetite for
breakfast.

"About an hour out of New York," said
Warner Brothers representative. "Why?
Are you thinking of getting out?"

"My, no!" said Mrs. Bailey. "I'm only
sorry this trip's so near an end! Why, I
felt more comfortable in that berth than in
my bed at home . . . that is, except for
that time in the night when we took that
awful drop!"

"You mean — when we hit that air
pocket?" asked Mr. Schwartz.

"Oh, is that what you call it?" said Mrs.
Bailey. "Well, why doesn't the pilot watch
out for those places in the air and go around
them like a bump in the road?"

Mr. Schwartz smothered a smile. "That's
an idea," he said. "Why don't you suggest
it to him?"

"I'll do it," said Mrs. Bailey, "The very
first chance I get!"

IT WAS Betty who saw the other plane
first. It had the insignia of the United
States Army upon it. The airliner was pass-
ing through clusters of fleecy clouds which
seemed to blow away in the breeze of the
propellers. This little plane kept bobbing
up and down, coming closer and closer.
Betty watched it with increasing fascina-
tion.

"Oh, look! " she exclaimed. "I do believe
the pilot's waving at me!"

The plane had an open cockpit so the
figure of the pilot could be plainly seen be-
hind the cowling.

"Now, Betty," said Mrs. Bailey, "Do
control yourself, dear! You have too vivid
an imagination!"

"No, Auntie! I'm not imagining things!"
cried Betty, excitedly. "The pilot is wav-
ing! Oh, Auntie, get out your field glasses
and let me have a good look at him!"

"For gracious sake!" said Mrs. Bailey,

100 AMAZING

fumbling inside her bag. "Here they are,
child!"

Betty took the glasses and adjusted
them. She had now attracted the attention
of everyone on the plane and passengers on
the other side were standing in the aisle,
staring out.

As the army plane came close and stayed
alongside for a moment, Betty let out a
shriek. "Why, Auntie! It's Harry! . . .
Well, what do you know! . . . Why, of
course! . . . Why didn't I think of him
before?. . . Look at him wave!. . . Oh!
Did you see his plane wobble? . . . Harry,
be careful! . . . Hello, dear! . . ." Betty
waved against the window pane. "He sees
me, too! Oh! That's wonderful! . . .
Auntie, isn't this romantic?"

The army plane swerved as both planes
hit an air pocket and almost came together.
The co-pilot of the airliner came down the
aisle.

"Who is that fool out there?" he de-
manded. "What's he think he's doing?"

"He's signalling to me! " said Betty. "It's
sign language we learned when we were
going together in New York!" She had
her eyes fixed on the figure in the army
plane, trying to make out his semaphone
movements. "Sorry, Harry. You'll have
to do it over!" she said, shaking her head
and gesturing. "I didn't get it!"

'"THE figure in the other plane took his
hands off the controls and began the
motions again, just as they went into a
cloud.

"Oh, that's too bad!" said Betty, and
turned to the co-pilot. "Can't you please
keep this plane out of the clouds for a few
minutes? I can't see what he's saying."

"Young lady," said the co-pilot. "This
isn't any time or place for wig- wagging!
You come away from that window before
that dizzy Romeo runs into us or goes into
a tail spin! . . . He'll get demoted for this!"

"Demoted!" said Betty. "A man who
can fly like that? Just a minute now! . . .
I'm getting it . . . Don't move the plane . . .
hold it still . . . keep close to him ... a lit-
tle closer . . . He's spelling it out for me
. . . Here it is! ... 'w-a-i-t- t-i-1-1 I g-e-t
y-o-u a-l-o-n-e!' "

"If that's a threat, I'm in favor of it,"
said the co-pilot.

Betty made an answering gesture. "I
can't imagine what he means but I've sig-
nalled to him 'message received', anyway!

STORIES

. . . Oh! Look at that!"

The army pilot had pulled up in a sharp
climb and was looping the loop! He was
soon lost to sight.

"Now, Betty," said Mrs. Bailey, "per-
haps you can take time to tell me who this
man Harry is!"

"Oh, Auntie!" said Betty. "I feel so
humiliated! ... He must have been the
one who called on me in the plane last
night! . . . The poor boy! To think I
treated him like I did!"

"I should have hit him harder with my
shoe," said Mr. Alex.

"I almost broke a toe on him," said Mr.
Schwartz. "But I wish I'd laid him out.
The sky isn't safe with a guy like that on
the loose!"

"Oh, Nellie! " called Professor Bailey, ex-
citedly. "Look! . . . Look out your win-
dow! There's New York down there!"

T A GUARDIA Airport was agog with
' excitement. As the terminal for scores
of incoming and outgoing celebrities, it had
always attracted crowds of sight-seers. But
this morning a city of twenty-five thousand
population had transported itself to the
airport by subway, automobile and bus line.
These citizens from every walk and run of
life were not there to welcome Eleanor
Roosevelt or Mahatma Gandhi. They were
there to see and to greet the mysterious
Green Man who had temporarily displaced
war, politics, domestic troubles and the
weather as subjects of discussion. Several
hundred of "New York's finest" had been
rushed to the airport to protect the run-
ways from invasion and the bulging crowd
had been, temporarily at least, successfully
roped off.

A welcoming committee was anxiously
waiting. Prominent among the welcomers
was, of course, the distinguished intellec-
tual, Clifton Fadiman, of "Information,
Please" fame. Standing beside him and
looking wistfully up at him was the man
after whom this great airport had been
named — His Honor, Mayor Fiorella "Lit-
tle Flower" LaGuardia.

"Isn't it a fine morning?" he said, squint-
ing at the sky.

"I don't answer questions," said Mr.
Fadiman. "Icj/fethem!"

Behind these two solid citizens was ar-
rayed the greatest battery of hard-boiled
reporters and photographers ever assembled
for any event anywhere. To say that they

THE GREEN MAN

101

were "loaded for bear" would be a gross
under-statement. The photographers had
been ordered to get a picture of Numar on
their film negatives "or else"! The report-
ers, feature writers, columnists and other
members of the writing profession too or-
nery to classify, had been instructed to get
under Numar 's green skin and get the ever-
lasting low-down on him.

All the world's best fakirs had headed for
New York sooner or later. They might be
able to fool the natives out in Oshkosh,
Podunk or even Los Angeles, but when a
pretender ran up against the sophistication
of New York town, he was soon as unveiled
as Gypsy Rose Lee.

A few of the Big Town's smartest lite-
rati stood off from the pack and put their
intellects together. In this group was Wal-
ter Winchell, dean of all newspaper pun-
wits, who knew what everyone was going
to do before they did it. Then there was
the venerable H. V. Kaltenborn, dean of
every American foreign correspondent since
the Civil War.

"I tell you, Walter," said Mr. Kalten-
born, clipping each word as though he were
chipping a diamond, "we must treat this
situation with the utmost sagacity. It is
not for us to turn back now. We must not
permit ourselves to be out-flanked by a sly
maneuver on the part of this green invader.
We should hem him in' on all sides and de-
mand to know how he stands on our for-
eign policy!"

TP\OROTHY THOMPSON, dean of all
she surveys, which is considerable,
edged herself into the conversation.

"It is the moral aspect which concerns
me," she said. "If Numar is an imposter,
and if he is not speedily exposed, the ethical
repercussions of this monstrous fraud are
apt to reach down to the very roots of our
civilization. I think, therefore, that Mr.
Numar should be called upon to state un-
equivocally his position in this matter and
to furnish unassailable proof as to his iden-
tification and purposes on this planet!"

"If he doesn't, / will!" said Winchell. "I
just had a tip that his name's really Izzy
Zwankenstein of Brooklyn, and that he fell
in a vat of green dye at a chemical works.
My informants state that he was taught a
few tricks by a broken-down magician who
has joined forces with him in an attempt to
gain fame and fortune. I hope to have more
information on this case before I go to press

tonight, but — first — I'm giving Mr. Numar
a chance to come clean with the inside
story, himself. If he doesn't, I'll turn him
over to the F.B.I. !"

There was a sudden shout from the crowd
and thousands of faces turned upward as
the American Airliner was seen circling the
field. High above it was an army pursuit
plane, which seemed to hover protectingly.
As the airliner came down on the runway
and started taxiing to the unloading plat-
form, this army plane dipped low over the
field and then landed on an outside runway.

"Looks like the army's after Numar,"
said Winchell. "I'll have to make a note of
that. Maybe he's a draft evader!"

Inside the airliner, all was a flurry of ex-
citement.

"My, but we took a dip coming in! " said
Mrs. Bailey. "William,, is my hat on
straight?"

"I can't tell you, Nellie," said the Pro-
fessor. "I'm still dizzy myself!"

' I "HE two talent scouts nudged one an-
A other.

"Jeez!" said Sid, glancing out a window.
"Just look at that crowd! It's a publicity
man's dream!"

"Have you talked business with Numar
yet?" asked Sam.

"How could I?" said Sid, "with you
watching me all the time!"

"I dropped to sleep for five minutes last
night," said Sam. "What were you doing
then?"

"That must have been the same time /
fell asleep ! " said Sid. "What were you do-
ing?"

Betty was primping like mad, if not mad-
der. She emerged from the ladies lounge,
dressed for her public. Talent scout Alex
caught the first glimpse of her.

"Good God!" he said, grabbing Sam's
arm. "Do you see what / see?"

Sam ventured a look. "I don't think Nu-
mar's going to like that!" he said.

Betty was wearing a gay little green hat
over one ear and half of one eye. She was
attired in a gray suit which had been closely
riveted to her curves. Her shoes were green
and her pocketbook was green. But the
eyestopping thing about her was her make-
up. Each cheek was delicately highlighted
in green and she winked at her two flabber-
gasted observers from beneath drooping
green eyelashes! Then she puckered up
her green lips and blew them a kiss with

AMAZING STORIES

expressive green-lacquered fingertips.

"Mrs. Bailey," said Mr. Alex, swallowing
his gum. "Will you please take a look at
your niece?"

Mrs. Bailey, who had been waiting for
the line of passengers in front of her to move
out of the plane so she could catch her first
terra firma glimpse of New York, turned
about.

"Hello, Auntie!" said Betty, and flashed
a green Mona Lisa smile.

Mrs. Bailey took one look and slumped
in a half-faint in the aisle.

"Why, Auntie," said Betty, "what's the
matter? Don't you like it? I think it's
very appropriate for the occasion!"

PROFESSOR BAILEY glanced worried-

ly at Numar who was last in line and
who had been quietly observing Betty's
fearful yet wonderful composition.

"I don't know who ever gave her that
idea!" said the Professor. "I hope you don't
mind too much. I think, myself, it's far too
theatric. It may give the people a wrong
impression of you."

Numar shook his head. "You do not need
to be concerned about me," he said. "I
would say she has quite a dramatic sense."

The passengers had begun to move out
of the plane and it was time for Numar's
party to make its exit.

"Don't you think if I came out last, it
would be more effective?" suggested Betty.

"She's stealing scenes already," said Sam,
"and she hasn't even been in pictures yet!
That's a sure sign she's going to be a star! "

"Yeah," said Sid, drily. "Only trouble is,
we'll have to be shooting her in technicol-
or." Then, to Betty, he said, "You can't
get top billing on this tour, Baby. You're
lucky to be along for the ride. So, you be a (
good girl and listen to your Uncle Sid.
Stick with me and you're certain to wear
phony diamonds!"

Mrs. Bailey was the first out. Sight of
the tremendous throng behind the ropes al-
most brought on another fainting spell. She
leaned on the arm of Mr. Schwartz for sup-
port. At least fifty camera men had their
lenses aimed at her. Off to one side, news
reel men were assembled in a semi-circle. In
front of them was the welcoming committee.
Mayor LaGuardia was moistening his lips
and getting ready for action. Clifton Fadi-
man straightened his tie, removed an ima-
ginary hair from his coat lapel, and said
"ahem!" several times. Both men looked

toward the plane, expectantly.

Next to appear in the plane's doorway
was something entirely unannounced.
Those within eye-view gasped in unbeliev-
ing astonishment.

"Who's that?" said a man, "Numar's
wife?"

The feminine bundle in green smiled and
took a bow. Flashlight bulbs exploded.
Mayor LaGuardia and Mr. Fadiman looked
questioningly at one another.

"Is this one of Numar's party?" asked
Mr. Fadiman.

"You'd better ask someone on 'Informa-
tion, Please'," said the mayor. "I don't an-
swer questions for a living."

Talent scout Alex gave Betty a shove
from behind. "Get moving, Baby," he said.
"Don't wear out your welcome!"

"Oh!" said Betty, pointing. "Are those
the official greeters over there!"

"That's them," Mr. Alex.

Betty started forward, face beaming.
"Oh, Mr. Mayor! . . . How do you do?
. . . I've read lots about you. You look
just like your pictures — maybe just a pound
or two heavier!"

There was no escape for the Mayor. She
had seized his hand and was pumping it.
"You look like somebody," he said. "Who
are you?"

"Why, Mr. Mayor!" exclaimed Betty.
"Hasn't anyone told you? I'm Professor
Bailey's niece and he's the man Mr. Nu-
mar's staying with — and I'm under con-
tract to M.G.M.!"

Betty had given the crowd something to
look at and it was looking. Even blase New
York had never seen a golden-haired blonde
with glistening lips and fingernails of
green!

SHE turned to an uncomfortable Clifton
Fadiman. "Oh, aren't you the man
who writes the Encyclopedia Brittanica?"
she asked, extending her hand. "I just love
brainy men! I think they're so intelligent!"

"This is an unexpected pleasure," said
Mr. Fadiman. "Very unexpected ! "

His eyes went from Betty to the plane
entrance where a figure who was really
green was stepping out. Numar was an
impressive sight in the morning sun as he
stood in his simple white robes and turban,
a friendly smile on his green countenance.
Betty lost her limelight at that moment.

Camera men made a rush for Numar and
began shooting at him from all angles. Pro-

THE GREEN MAN

103

fessor Bailey, exiting somewhat shyly from
the plane, kept to the background and crept
around to stand beside his wife, where they
watched proceedings.

"What are we going to do with Betty?"
he whispered in her ear.

"Don't ask me!" said Mrs. Bailey. "I
can't even bear to look at her! "

Police were having their difficulties with
the crowd as men and women pulled and
shoved, trying to get a better glimpse of the
mysterious green man. Numar now was
being directed toward the welcoming com-
mittee. He motioned to Professor Bailey
to join him.

"Might I suggest," ventured the Profes-
sor, in a low voice. "Your electric power
. . . have you turned it off?"

"Oh, yes!" said Numar, "Thank you for
reminding me."

Mayor LaGuardia advanced with hand
outstretched. As the two shook hands, the
news reel cameras went into action to record
what might prove to be an historic event.

"Mr. Numar," said the Little Flower, in
a voice which trembled with emotion. "As
Mayor of this great City of New York,
which contains more Italians than Rome,
more Irish than Dublin, more Germans than
Bremen, and one-fifth of all the Jews in the
world, I take pleasure in welcoming you,
the first foreigner to visit us from another
planet!"

Before the inter-planetary visitor could
make answer, Clifton Fadiman stepped for-
ward.

"Mr. Numar," he said, in a voice rich
with culture. "We, my sponsors — the
Fifty-Seven Varieties — and the thinking
people of this country, including myself,
deeply appreciate your having come a tril-
lion miles to appear on the 'Information,
Please' program."

^TUMAR bowed in acknowledgment but
■*■ ^ said nothing, as the cameras kept on
grinding. Mr. Fadiman then turned and
shook hands with Professor Bailey. He was
followed by the Mayor.

In the next instant, Numar was sur-
rounded by a fearsome mob of highly
trained inquisitors, the reporters. Their
tongues and pencils had been sharpened for
the encounter and questions flew at the
Green Man from all sides with the bewilder-
ing ferocity of a robot bombing attack.
They didn't care where they hit him or how
often. If Numar 's elaborate and clever de-

fenses could be broken and he could be put
to rout, they were going to do it. It was
an all-out assault which had never failed to
make any previous artful deceiver break
and run for cover.

But, after an intensive half hour barrage,
the Green Man was still standing, unmoved,
despite all charges and thrusts. His an-
swers were direct and to the point. They
were unable to shake his story. He was
on a tour through the universe and had
stopped off on Earth to deliver a message.
No, he would give no inkling of what that
message was to be. They would have to
wait until his address between halves of the
football game in Chicago. Where was he go-
ing from here? To another planet which
was in about the same state of undevelop-
ment. Beyond that, he would not go. There
was no evidence of any attempt at evasive-
ness but the statements Numar made could,
unfortunately, not be judged by any human
standards or verified.

Finally Walter Winchell, the greatest
runner-downer of higher-uppers, stepped to
the front. "We're not getting anywhere this
way," he said. "Will you boys and girls let
me go to work on him?"

"Go to it!" chorused a baffled newspaper
fraternity.

"All right, Mr. Numar," said Winchell.
"You've had us all up in the ethereal re-
gions. Let's get down on earth where we all
live. What do you know about Brooklyn?"

"Brooklyn?" questioned Numar. "What
is that?"

"That's the home of the Brooklyn
Dodgers," said Winchell. "Also the home
of Izzy Zwankenstein. Do you remember
him?"

Numar shook his head. Winchell con-
sulted his notes.

"Were you ever employed in a chemical
works?"

Again Numar shook his head.

"All right, now. Think hard on this one.
Did you ever fall into a vat of green dye?"

For the first time since Professor Bailey
had been in Numar's company, the Green
Man laughed out loud.

"You human creatures are very amus-
ing," he said.

Winchell tore up his notes and threw
them on the ground.

"Just a minute, Walter," called Mr.
O'Neill, science editor of the Herald-Trib-
une. "Ask Mr. Numar if he'll give us a
demonstration of his electrical powers!"

104

AMAZING STORIES

HTHE Mirror's little boy, Walter, gave
A Numar a dubious look. "Well, Mr.
Zwankenstein, what do you say to that?"

"Select one of your number," invited
Numar, agreeably. "I shall be glad to co-
operate."

"Good heavens!" said Professor Bailey.
"Here it comes again! "

"I was kissed by him once," said Betty,
who was standing beside the Mayor. "It
was a great experience."

"It must have been," said the Mayor,

y< 'I can't quite make him out," said Mr.
Fadiman.

"Oh, you needn't feel badly about that,"
said Betty. "Neither can anybody else!"

New York's smartest literati had gone
into a huddle. H. V. Kaltenborn was speak-
ing.

"No, Walter. I really must decline. I
think this honor should go to you. Your
Hooper rating is higher than mine."

Mrs. Winchell's bad little boy, Walter,
was not so easily swayed. "Why not ob-
serve the good old American custom of
'women first'?" he proposed, "and let Doro-
thy touch him!"

"How long since women have been first
in this country?" said Miss Thompson.
"No, Walter, dear, you're the Number One
Investigator of the newspaper profession.
You're elected!"

Spectators who could get a view of what
was going on, passed the news along to oth-
ers who could not see. Numar was stand-
ing in an open area and was actually visible
to quite a number. The reporters, however,
now pressed forward to more closely ob-
serve the experiment.

"I suggest," said Numar, "that the rest
of you stand back!"

WINCHELL'S collar had suddenly be-
come too tight. He loosened his tie.
There was perspiration on his forehead.

"My hands are rather moist," he said.
"Will that make any difference?"
"It should help," said Numar.
Winchell dried his hands on his handker-
chief.

"Now what shall I do?" he asked.

"Suppose you shake hands with me," di-
rected Numar.

"What can I lose?" said Winchell, and
held out his hand.

There was a flash but it wasn't one of
Walter Winchell's to the world. He was

getting this flash exclusively.

"Looks like he's jitterbugging!" said the
Mayor.

It only lasted a few seconds and the coun-
try's leading scoopolumnist was picking
himself up off the ground.

"Would anyone else like to . . . ?" sug-
gested Numar, pleasantly.

"No, we'll take Walter's word for it!"
said a cautious scribe from the New York
Times.

"You will!" said Winchell, dusting him-
self off. "What a change in policy!" Then,
turning to all assembled and raising his
voice, he declared: "I haven't any word for
it, except to say that I'm reporting this
man to J. Edgar Hoover— for carrying con-
cealed weapons!"

This broke up the newspaper interview
and Winchell was now surrounded by his
curious fellow writers who sought to get
from him just how it had felt to touch the
Green Man.

"Touch him, yourselves, and find out!"
said Winchell. "Or else read about it to-
morrow morning in the Daily Mirror!"

Mr. Fadiman and the Mayor now ap-
proached Numar but stood at a respectful
distance.

"The Mayor and I have arranged," said
the interrogator of "Information, Please,"
"to show you some of the sights of New
York."

Numar smiled. "I shall be glad to ac-
company you," he said.

The Mayor looked around at the other
members of Numar's party, including Mr.
Alex and Mr. Schwartz.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I have only
one city car here. Ilad I known there were
to be so many of you . . . !"

"Oh, that's perfectly all right," said
Betty, helpfully. "These two gentlemen
here," indicating Mr. Alex and Mr.
Schwartz, are just picture people. They
won't mind taking the subway."

"Not at all," said Mr. Alex, glancing
about at the crowd. "Especially when this
mob starts getting out of here!"

"You said it," chimed Mr. Schwartz.
"They claim it's the longest ride in the
world for a nickel. Brother, they're sure
right!"

"Well, then," said Betty, airily, "you can
get a taxi — that is, if you can find one."
Then she turned to the Mayor as she
counted each one off on her fingers. "Now,
that just leaves you and Mr. Britannica . . .

THE GREEN MAN

105

and Mr. Numar . . . and Mr. and Mrs.
Bailey — and myself. That makes six. How
big is your car?"

"It holds five," said the Mayor.

"Why, that's just right," said Betty.
"There'll be plenty of room! I'll sit on
your lap!"

HpHE Mayor gave an uneasy sidewise
glance at the photographers. "I'm
afraid you won't be very comfortable."

"Oh, don't you mind about me," said
Betty. "You just think of yourself!"

Mayor LaGuardia looked like a candi-
date who was being defeated for office.

It was a block's walk to his chauffered
car and it was while covering this distance
that most of the tremendous crowd tried
to get a look at Numar personally. They
broke through the police lines and surged
about. Various cries went up.

"Say, he's green all right! . . . Look at
that dame with him! Boy, is she a sight!
. . . Officer, let me through! I'm an astrol-'
oger. I've got to talk to Numar . . . Please,
my leetle boy, he's seek. I want for Numar
ju'st to touch . . ."

Despite all entreaties, the police fought
back the crowd and delivered the Green
Man and his party to the Mayor's car, un-
trampled and untouched. But, far on the
outskirts of the throng, making frenzied ef-
forts to get through, was a young flying of-
ficer. Finally he appealed to one of New
York's "finest."

"I'm in a terrible jam!" he said.

"Who isn't?" said the big Irish copper,
holding back at least a hundred squirming
arms and legs.

"I don't mean the crowd, I mean my
girl!" said Harry.

"Domestic trouble, eh? Well, I can't set-
tle that! You'd better see the judge."

"You don't understand," cried Harry, in
desperation. "She's getting away from
me!"

"If she's in this crowd," said the copper,
"she can't get away from anybody! "

"But she's with that guy Numar!" yelled
Harry. "And I've got to get through to
her!"

"Well, why didn't you say so?" said the
copper. "Crawl under this rope! You'll
have to hurry.' She's just about leavin' in
the Mayor's car now!"

MR. ALEX and Mr. Schwartz stood
forlornly and wistfully by as the rest

of Numar's party climbed into the Mayor's
open limousine.

"I'm not used to this kind of treatment,"
said Mr. Alex. "If I don't land Numar, it
won't be worth it!"

"The same goes for me," said Sam. "But
that bird Numar — he gets bigger every min-
ute. He's got this New York town in his
mitt right now!"

Betty, last in the car, had waited for the
Mayor to seat himself. She now noticed
an extra space beside the chauffeur in front.
Her face brightened with a new idea.

"Yoo hoo! Oh, Mr. Alex . . . ! Mr.
Schwartz! . . . I've found a place for you
after all! ... Do you mind sitting up front
with the driver?"

"I'd ride on the roof to get out of this
crowd!" said talent scout Alex.

"I'd even sit on the chauffeur's lap," said
Sam.

The two men lost no time in following
Betty's suggestion.

"You know," Sid confided to Sam, "she
may be slightly screwy, but she's not such
a bad sort after all!"

"I don't know which is worse," said Sam.
"That Mrs. Bailey would talk an arm off
the Venus de Milo!"

-Betty, still standing in the back of the
car, looked about her to see if anything else
needed supervising.

"Better get moving! " urged a police cap-
tain. "We can't hold this crowd back
much longer!"

Just at that moment, the handsome but
somewhat ruffled form of a young flight
lieutenant burst through the wall of spec-
tators. In front of him was a circle of photo-
graphers, aiming their cameras at the car as
it started to pull away.

"Betty!" he cried. "Wait for me!
Betty!"

"Are you comfy, Mr. Mayor?" asked
Betty. "Here I come!" She plopped her-
self down upon his lap.

"Betty!" cried an anguished voice, And
then, for the first time, Lieutenant Harry
Hopper got a full front view of the girl of
his dreams. His eyes almost left their
sockets. "Good gosh almighty!" he said.

In that instant, Betty saw and recognized
him.

"Harry!" she screamed, and stood up
again. "Oh, Harry! . . . Quick — catch on
the back here! Come on! There's room
for one more!"

But the car was now picking up speed

106

AMAZING STORIES

and the crowd broke ranks behind it, swal-
lowing Harry up in its midst.

Betty sank back down upon the Mayor's
knee.

"Was that someone you knew?" he

"Well, yes, slightly," said Betty. "He
was my fiance!"

IT WAS natural and proper that the
world's first inter-planetary visitor
should be taken to one of the Earth's fin-
est hotels. The Waldorf-Astoria, at Fif-
tieth and Park Avenue, New York, had long
been so recognized. It had swank in the
quiet but expensive manner. Those desir-
ous of making the right impression on busi-
ness acquaintances, friends or poor relations
always carried away silverware bearing the
famous Waldorf monogram. Today, there
is an increasing number who, having com-
pleted sets for themselves, are working on
sets for their grandchildren. No greater
proof of a hotel's distinction may be cited
than this. And, no celebrity from any land
would think of stopping anywhere else than
at the Waldorf, or at least making sure that

he or she was seen there!

When the whine of police motorcycle
sirens announced the arrival of the Mayor's
car at the main entrance of the Waldorf, the
noon luncheon crowds stopped to gape and
wonder. Who was the green gold blonde on
the Mayor's lap? Hello! There was the
Green Man! Well, what do you know!
. . . And there was Mr. Fadiman, famed
conductor of "Information, Please!" That
must be Professor Bailey and his wife. And
those two men, in the front seat with the
chauffeur, must be detectives attached to
the Mayor's strong arm squad. What a
load of big shots ! What a break to see them
this way!

In no time at all, the car was surrounded.
Once more it was a job for police to clear
the way as Numar and his party entered the
hotel. News had reached the manager that
these distinguished guests were in the lobby
and he met them at the head of the stairs
to escort them personally to his private of-
fice, where he brought out a special registry
for celebrities.

"Will you honor us by signing this?" he
requested of Numar. "I think I may safe-
ly say," he continued, proudly, "that this
guest book contains the signatures of all of
the world's great, dating well back before
the turn of the century." He dipped his

pen in the ink and handed it to Numar, then
thought better of it and took it back. "Just
a moment," he said. "You shouldn't sign it
this way. I want your signature in green
ink!" He reached in a drawer of his desk
and produced a bottle, then wiped off the
pen point and dipped it in. "Now, Mr. Nu-
mar, if you will, please."

"VTUMAR smiled, and with all in the

^ party watching, inscribed his name in
flowing, graceful style. He hesitated mo-
mentarily, and then wrote after his name:
"Resident, Planet Talamaya
Of the Constellation Universa . . ."

"So that's your address!" said Betty,
looking over his shoulder. "My, if you ever
jumped a hotel bill, they'd have a hard time
reaching you!"

"I could not pay even now," said Nu-
mar, "since we have no currency on my
planet you would recognize here."

"Oh, well!" said Betty, "I'm sure that
Mr. Brittanica or the Mayor or somebody
!"

"Of course!" said Mr. Fadiman. "Mr.
Numar understands he is the guest of 'In-
formation, Please'." Then, directing his re-
marks to the manager, he added, "We will
need some extra accommodations for this
young lady and Professor Bailey's wife."

"Oh, no, you won't!" said Mr. Alex,
stepping forward. "M.G.M. is taking care
of Miss Bracken!"

"And Warner Brothers are taking care of
Mrs. Bailey," said Mr. Schwartz. "Just
charge it to our companies."

Mr. Fadiman looked relieved. "Well, if
you gentlemen insist!" he said.

"I'll show you to your suites," offered the
manager. "But, first, Mr. Numar — it's our
publicity director's suggestion — would you
mind posing for a picture with Oscar, our
chef? We'd like to get a photograph of you
holding our bill of fare and giving him your
order. Then we'll publish it with the cap-
tion: 'Oscar of the Waldorf, serving Numar,
man from another planet, the best meal on
earth!'"

Numar smiled. "It's an interesting idea,"
he said, "but it so happens that I eat no

"He has no stomach," said Professor
Bailey, helpfully.

"No stomach!" said the manager, star-
tled.

"He lives on distilled water," said the
Professor.

THE GREEN MAN

107

"Oh," said the manager, quite dazed and
crestfallen. "I'm sorry to hear that, No
stomach! Well, well! I've heard of those
operations. But how in heaven's name do
you live on distilled water?"

"It's the way he's made," said the Pro-
fessor. "He had no operation."

A frightened look came in the manager's
face. "I'll get the keys to your suites," he
said. "Thank you just the same, Mr. Nu-
mar. Thank you very much! " He started
backing away. Then, to himself, "No
stomach! . . . Wait till I tell Oscar!"

PROFESSOR BAILEY, as Numar's host,
was assigned to the same suite with the
Green Man while Mrs. Bailey, traveling
under the delusion she was Betty's chaper-
one, paired with her. The two suites were
situated across the hall from one another
on a top floor. They were the first and
last word in elegance, so there remained
nothing for Mrs. Bailey to say about them.
All she could do was gasp her amazement
and go around, exclaiming, "Well, I
never!" To Mr. Schwartz, however, she
did remark: "This must be costing your
company a pretty penny!" His reply had
not reassured her. "Don't worry— before
we're through with you, we'll get it back
some way! "

The Professor, Mrs. Bailey and Betty
were guests of the Mayor and Mr. Fadi-
man for lunch in the Green Room of the
Waldorf, but the Green Man remained in
his suite and sipped his distilled water. His
appearance in a public eating place, stom-
ach or no stomach, would have upset too
many digestive tracts and disrupted the
dining service.

"I can see right now," said the Mayor,
"that it's going to be a problem showing
Mr. Numar the city!"

"Quite!" said Mr. Fadiman, in a mas-
terpiece of understatement.

The representatives of M.G.M. and War-
ner Brothers had taken a suite for them-
selves on the same floor so that they might
watch each other more easily.

"We've both got a stake in this thing,"
Sid said, "so why should we cut each
other's throats — until we have to?"

"Sure," said Sam. "We might as well
work together till one of us gets Numar.
But if he won't let himself be photo-
graphed, he's not going to be much good
for pictures."
"Not unless they shoot him as 'The In-

visible Man,' " said Sid. "I've already
listed that title with the Will Hays Office,
so you can't beat me there 1"

The two men had arranged to have all
telephone calls routed into their suite since
neither Numar nor Professor Bailey were
interested in anything but the primary pur-
pose for which they had come to New
York.

"If we can line up enough big offers be-
tween us," said Sam, "we ought to break
this Numar down somehow. He's got the
world by the tail now. I can't figure what
else he wants."

"Well — -you know these performers,'
said Sid. "Their egos are always bigger
than their bankroll. I'll bet that guy never
dreamed, when he started out with this
stunt, that he'd be a sensation like this."

"Maybe he's gone so far he's afraid to
stop," said Sam. "Or else he's begun to
believe he's from another planet himself!"

"I don't know," said Sid. "All I know
is — he's terrific box-office!"

T^HE telephone began to ring and both
men jumped for it,

"It's my turn!" said Sid.

"I hope it's a wrong number," said Sam.

Sid shifted his cigar to a far corner of
his mouth and answered the phone.

"Begin the conversation," he said. He
waited a moment, listening intently, as
Sam watched him with a hawk-like ex-
pression. "Is that so?" said Sid, into the
phone. "Is that so? . . . Is that so?!!"

"Is what so?" demanded Sam.

Sid motioned for silence and covered the
mouthpiece with his hand. "There's a sol-
dier in the lobby who says he's engaged to
Miss Bracken. He sounds, to me, like he's
tight. He says he's got to see her right
away or he's going to tear down the hotel ! "

"Is that so?" said Sam. "Well, what
are you going to tell him?" Miss Bracken
is your department!"

"I'm gonna invite him up," said Sid.
Then, into the phone, "Miss Bracken isn't
here just now but I'm her representative.
Would you like to see me?"

There was a sudden sharp click on the
phone.

"He would, very much!" said Sid.

"Do you suppose it's that crazy guy
who's been following us from Hollywood?"
said Sam.

"I don't know," said Sid, "but I'm sure
as hell going to find out ! "

AMAZING STORIES

There was a rap on the door which al-
most split the panels.

"Two to one, it's html" said Sam, get-
ting up and retreating toward an inner
room. "Well, goodbye. I'll be seeing
you!"

"You stick around!" urged Sid. "It
sounds like I'll be needing you."

He went to the door, slipped the lock,
and pulled it open. The husky form of a
fiery-eyed flight lieutenant strode in.

"What have you done with her? Where
is she?" he demanded. "Who are you?"

"I," said Sid, "am Mr. Alex of M.G.M.
Pictures!"

"And who is he?" said the irate figure,
pointing at Sam.

"That's Mr. Schwartz of Warner Broth-
ers," said Sid, "an old pal of mine!"

Sam glared.

"And now," said Sid, his voice dripping
with syrup, "Who might you be?"

"I," said the caller, "am Harry Hopper.
I've come here to bust this guy Numar in
the nose and take Miss Bracken back with
me!"

"Is that so?" said Sid, giving a sidewise
glance at Sam.

"That's very interesting," said Sam. "Do
you have an option on her?"

«f\PTION!" raged Harry. "Why, I'm

U going to marry her!"

"Now, sit down, my good fellow," said
Sid. "Have a cigar. Take the weight off
your heels. I believe we've met before."

"Never saw you before in my life!" said
Harry.

"But I've seen you," said Said. "I saw
you first when you so touchingly waved
farewell to Miss Bracken in Hollywood. I
saw you a second time and helped 'shoo'
you out of the plane at Dallas. I saw you
next when you damned near wrecked the
plane I was on. I saw you again when
you bucked the crowd at LaGuardia Air-
port and almost made a touchdown! And
I'm seeing you now. . . ! "

"All right, all right!" broke in Harry.
"So, you've seen me! But what / want is
to see Betty!"

"Sorry, my friend!" said Sid. "She's all
booked up!"

"Now, listen!" Harry's attitude became
pugnacious. "I haven't flown across this
country for nothing. My girl's making a
damn fool of herself and I'm going to put
a stop to it!"

"Not while she's under contract to
M.G.M." said Sid.

"We'll see about that! " said Harry. "I've
got some rights around here. And another
thing — who's responsible for that green
get-up of hers?"

"Not me!" said Sid.

"Are you sure?" demanded Harry, eye-
ing him, suspiciously.

Sid backed away. "Positive! That was
her own idea!"

"If it was," said Harry, "it just goes to
show what you've done to her. You pic-
ture guys are a bad influence." He looked
wildly about the room. "Don't tell me," he
said, "that Miss Bracken is staying here
with you?"

The two men registered instant horror
and denial.

"Calm yourself, my dear lieutenant,"
said Sid. "You know Will Hays wouldn't
permit that. She has a nice suite on this
floor with a chaperone."

"Her own dear auntie is with her," sup-
plied Sam. "You don't have anything to
worry about."

"Oh, no!" said Harry. "I know what
goes on in your racket! I've been an actor,
myself!"

"Why, of course!" pacified Sid. "I can
tell ... I was just going to ask ... !"

"No, Sid, let me ask him," interposed
Sam. "Has anyone ever told you that you
bear a striking resemblance to Clark
Gable?"

Harry was momentarily stopped. "Why
. . . yes, I believe they have," he said.
"You don't mean . . . Betty hasn't been
talking about me ... P

"Not to me, she hasn't" said Sam. "So
she thinks you're the Gable type, too, eh?
. . . What a coincidence!"

"Wait a moment, Sam," said Sid. "Gable
belongs to M.G.M. I saw this man first.
If there's going to be any deal. . . !"

"No, you don't!" said Harry. "I'm off
pictures! And I'm taking Betty out of
pictures, too! I can see right now I'm not
going to get any help from you guys. I'm
going to wait right out here in the hall till
Betty comes back!" Harry marched to
the door. "And don't try any funny busi-
ness, either! If you do, I'll come back and
crack your heads together!"

Harry went out and banged the door.

The two talent scouts could hear him
treading up and down the hall.

"How are we going to get rid of him?"

THE GREEN MAN

109

said Sam.

"Listen and you'll find out," said Sid,
taking up the telephone receiver. "Hello,"
he said. "Give me the house detective.
. . . Hello! This is Mr. Alex of M.G.M.!
I'm up here in suite 28-B. There's a man
just left my room who says his name's
Harry Hopper. He's an actor out of work
who's wearing a uniform. That's right —
he's impersonating an army officer. . . .
Yeah, it seems that he's gotten a crush on
Miss Bracken and he's been threatening
me. . . . You'll take care of him? Thanks
very much! " Sid hung up the receiver and
turned to Sam. "That disposes of Mr. Hop-
per," he said.

'T'HE Mayor had to give the City of
New York a little of his time that
afternoon. He regretted very much, and
was secretly glad, that he could not accom-
pany Numar and his party on their sight-
seeing tour of New York. He was already
worried about how his picture was going
to look in the papers, with this Miss
Bracken person sitting on his lap. The
great J. P. Morgan had once been pho-
tographed with an attractive little midget
perched on his knee, and had survived the
public reaction. However, this sort of
thing could certainly not be called digni-
fied.

In addition, Numar, the alleged visitor
from another planet, was still a question
mark. As mayor of the world's greatest
city, he could hardly afford not to have
welcomed Numar, in the event he should
prove beyond all doubt, to be genuine. If
he should later be exposed as a fraud, the
Mayor felt reasonably assured that he had
not gone out on a limb by himself. Too
many important personages had now seen
the Green Man and had been equally baf-
fled. There was the case, some years ago,
of the famous Count Romanoff, an engag-
ing impostor from the Flatbush regions of
Brooklyn. He had fooled the blue bloods
of society and made them like it, ending
up in pictures and as proprietor of a night
club. If Numar were a charlatan, his fate
could not conceivably be worse than this.

On the agenda of Clifton Fadiman for
the afternoon entertainment of Numar and
party, was a visit to the top of the Empire
State building, a journey by boat to the
Statue of Liberty, and a trip in The Times
Square subway at rush hour. These three
points of interest were thought best de-

signed to give any visitor to New York a
vivid impression of the city from above, on
the surface, and below. It perhaps did not
represent Mr. Fadiman's personal choice.
He would, no doubt, have preferred to es-
cort Numar on a tour of the New York
Public Library, pointing out to him his
own Book-of-the-Month Club selections.
But Mr. Fadiman was generously deferring
to popular taste on this occasion, and sub-
merging his own finer instincts.

The Empire State Building, so the guide
books say, towers 102 stories above the
street. You can see fifty miles in every
direction, perhaps a hundred, on a clear
day. This afternoon chanced to be one of
those days.

Fortunately, Numar's trip to the obser-
vation tower had not been publicised in
advance. Even so, he was followed by a
small army of reporters and photographers
who jammed the top floor cupola.

A L SMITH, head of the Empire State
Corporation and one of New York
State's former governors, had joined the
party personally to point out spots of in-
terest. He was wearing his familiar cigar
and brown derby hat.

"You see down there! " he was saying, in
his choice East Side drawl. "That's the
fish market section where I was born. Mr.
Numar, I was brought up on the sidewalks
of old New York. I have breathed the
atmosphere of this great city from the
Bowery to the Bronx. I have risen to this
present height from a poor boy — and this
demonstrates what any man can accom-
plish who joins the right party and pursues
the democratic way of life!"

Numar seemed deeply impressed but
said nothing.

Mrs. Bailey was impressed also, but
mostly by the height of which Al Smith
had been talking. "My goodness!" she
said, clutching Professor Bailey and Mr.
Schwartz at the same time. "Were we ever
this high up in the plane? Somehow I
don't feel so safe when I have my feet on
the ground!"

Betty now had Mr. Fadiman by the arm
and had edged herself in to a position be-
side former Governor Smith.

"I think it's just wonderful what you've
done with your life," she said, "and you
wrote a big hit song, too, didn't you? I
used to sing it and I even remember the '
title. Now, let's see — what was it . . .

110

AMAZING STORIES

Something about sidewalks and Rosie
O'Grady ... oh, yes, 'East Side, West
Side'!"

"I didn't write the song," said Al Smith.
"But it sort of became identified with me."

"I should say it did!" said Betty. "Why,
I heard you sing it yourself once — at Madi-
son Square Garden! Oh, Mr. Numar — you
should hear Mr. Smith sing!"

Al Smith rolled his cigar back and forth
in his mouth.

"That's a good idea!" took up the news
men and photographers. "How about it,
Al? Give Mr. Numar an idea of how it
goes! Give him the real spirit of New
York. You start— and we'll join in!"

Al Smith grinned, amiably. "Well," he
said, "if you can stand it, I can." He
cleared his throat and cut loose, in his best
barber shop manner.

"East Side, West Side, all around the
town ... !"

Numar was listening with great inter-
est. A chorus of voices joined in. The
song was sung with gusto and brought to a
rousing finish.

" '. . . Boys and girls together . . . Me
and Mamie O'Rourke . . . We tripped the
light fantastic on the sidewalks of New
York!' "

There was applause and laughter at the
finish as Al Smith did a dance step and took
a bow.

"In all my travels, I have never heard
anything like this," said Numar.

r T" , HE little Statue of Liberty boat was
thronged to the gunwales. The mem-
bers of Numar's party were pressed against
the rail on the side overlooking New York's
skyline, and the rest of the passengers were
pressed against them.

"Oh, Auntie!" said Betty, "I just had a
terrible thought!"

"I don't see how you can think in a crowd
like this!" said Mrs. Bailey.

"But that's just what made me think,"
said Betty. "Poor Harry! Do you suppose
he ever got out of that other crowd alive? I
haven't seen or heard of him since!"

Mr. Alex and Mr. Schwartz nudged one
another.

"Say, Sid," said Sam, pointing to the
Statue of Liberty, "wouldn't you think that
dame would get tired holding up that torch
all the time?"

The boat was now docking at the little
island but the crowd was much more inter-

ested in Numar, the man from another
planet, than in the Goddess of Liberty.
They pushed and jammed around him as
he and his party, went ashore.

"I suppose you are acquainted with
American history!" said Mr. Fadiman to
Numar as they entered the base of the
Statue of Liberty. "You know we won our
independence in 1776!"

"You had to win your independence?"
asked Numar.

"Oh, yes," said Mr. Fadiman, "every
race has had to fight for its liberty on this
earth. This Statue, given us by the coun-
try of France, is symbolic of our fight for
freedom."

"I see," said Numar, quietly.

They went by elevator and winding stair-
way, arriving finally in the crown of the
Goddess. They looked out upon her up-
lifted right arm which held, high above
them, a huge glass torch.

"This monument cost the people of
France a quarter of a million dollars," said
Mr. Fadiman," and the Americans contrib-
uted an additional three hundred fifty
thousand for the pedestal and base upon
which to erect the statue."

"Its monetary value is then its greatest
significance?" asked Numar.

Mr. Fadiman's face colored. "No, but
we people here usually like to know how
much things cost."

"Apparently," said Numar, "you have
been paying an extremely high price for
everything worthwhile."

"Isn't it funny?" said Betty. "I've lived
in New York for years, and this is the first
time I've ever been out to the Statue of
Liberty. It just goes to show that the tran-
sients, like Mr. Numar, see more of New
York than we do!"

"It says here, on this tablet," observed
Mrs. Bailey, "that this monument we're in
is three hundred and one feet, three inches
high."

"It also says," observed Numar, " 'Liberr
ty Enlightening the World'."

"Oh, yes," said Mrs. Bailey, "I knew
that before."

' I TMES Square at rush hour is a daily
spectacle unequaled at any other place
beneath the earth's surface. Into this stone
and concrete cavern, lined with tile, is
poured, pushed, packed and jammed every
nationality in the world, regardless of age,
race, color or creed.

THE GREEN MAN

111

Here, visitor and citizen alike may ob-
serve genuine democracy at work. Here,
the principle that "all men are created free
and equal" is seen in operation. Here, there
is no discrimination or class difference.
Here, Democrats, Republicans, Socialists
and Communists fight for their very lives
and a seat on the subway, without favor or
prejudice. Here, the great industrialist, the
Wall street broker, the white collar man
and the laborer is each just as apt to have
his feet stepped upon and lose half the but-
tons on his pants. Here, human dignity is
sacrificed that the rights of all may tri-
umph. Here, the women members of a
proud human race, whether they belong to
high society, the league of housewives, or
the working girl fraternity, may reduce
themselves to the same common denomina-
tor by re-enacting a rush on a bargain
counter.

It was into such a caldron of human flesh
and spirit that Numar and his party were
led by their guide and educator, Mr. Clifton
H. Fadiman. The reporters and the photo-
graphers had been taking considerable
punishment on this tour. They had often
become separated from the principals and
had been compelled to get their stories and
pictures as best they could.

"This'll be a great story if we live to turn
it in!" said one of their number, as he en-
tered the mad stream of humans pouring
through the clicking turnstiles and was
swept onward, not toward the sea, but to-
ward the subway trains below.

"You'd better hang onto me, Auntie,"
said Betty. "I'm used to this. We want to
be sure we all get on the same train."

"Good gracious!" gasped Mrs. Bailey.
"What people! . . . That man bumped into
me and he never stopped to apologize! "

"Hang onto your pocketbook," warned
Betty. "I got out of here once with an-
other woman's purse and a man's umbrella.
I don't know how it happened ... I won-
der where Harry is now!"

"Never mind about Harry," said Mrs.
Bailey. "I'm being crushed! . . . Why don't
the police do something? I don't see an
officer anywhere!"

"Of course not! " said Betty, as they were
pushed and poked along. "They're not
needed. You're supposed to take care of
yourself."

"Well, how can I?" said Mrs. Bailey.
"When I'm just one person against a mil-
lion!"

NUMAR, Professor Bailey and Mr. Fad-
iman were being swept along just be-
hind. A greatly distressed Mr. Alex and
Mr. Schwartz brought up the rear.

"This is earning your living the hard
way," said Sid as he removed someone's
elbow from his eye.

"That's why I moved to California," said
Sam, "to get me in the wide open spaces.
Imagine paying a nickel for this!"

They were all now on the platform itself
and a train had just pulled in.

"We'll get on this express, if we can,"
said Mr. Fadiman, "and ride up to Ninety-
Sixth Street. If any of us should get sep-
arated, I'll see you tonight on the 'Informa-
tion, Please' program!"

"Follow me, Auntie," said Betty, "and
I'll show you how to get in!" She put her
head down and began to burrow.
"I can't breathe!" said Mrs. Bailey.
"Then hold your breath till we get on! "
said Betty. "Keep pushing, Auntie! We're
almost there!" She called to the subway
guard who stood on the edge of the plat-
form. "Hold the door, please!"

The guard took a look at her and
whistled.

"All right, Greenie!" he said. "Come
ahead!"

"I've got my Aunt with me," said Betty,
"and four other gentlemen!"

The guard looked around. "That green
man one of 'em?" he asked.

"Yes! He's from another planet!" said
Betty. "He's never been on a subway be-
fore!" The guard grinned. "Okay, Swami!
Come on! I'll put you in' here somewhere!
... Is this gent with you?" He caught
Professor Bailey by the arm and gave him
a push. "Step lively, Brother! "

The entrance to the car was jam-packed.
It looked totally impossible to insert an-
other human being but Betty identified all
the members of her party and the guard
herded them together.

"Get in there, Lady 1 " he said, and leaned
his weight against Mrs. Bailey's back. She
pushed a fat woman in front of her, who
was holding a large package above her head.
There was a crunching sound and the
woman cried out: "There goes my new
hat!"

"Move right up in the car!" shouted the
guard. "Make room here! All right, you ! "
He grabbed hold of Numar. "Where you
playing this week, Swami? Coney Island?"

Mr. Fadiman, Mr. Alex and Mr. Schwarz

112

AMAZING STORlti

were still on the platform. The Professor,
Mrs. Bailey and Betty were in the vestibule
of the train.

"I don't know, Sister," called the guard,
"whether I can get your friends all on or
not!"

"We can wait for the next train," pro-
posed Numar.

"Your friends can wait," said the guard.
"But I'll get you on. Here's a place right
here!"

TTHERE was a bare foothold beyond the
open door of the train. He gave Numar
a sudden shove and pressed him hard
against the fat woman and Mrs. Bailey.
No one gave way. It required a blasting
operation.

"Come on, Swami! Push! Give me a
little help!" said the guard. "I can't do
it alone!" He put his shoulder against
Numar's back and gave a mighty shove.
The crowd inside the vestibule shifted and
bulged but Numar's white robed form
would not quite permit the door to be
pulled shut against it.

"You're almost in!" yelled the guard.
"One more good push! Move up, you peo-
ple! Move up in there!"

The guard drew back and threw himself
against Numar. He rebounded as though
he were shot. Passengers in the vestibule
moved forward into the car, with astonish-
ing alacrity, bowling all before them. It was
as though they had been propelled by an
invisible force. Numar was left standing
with ample space around him. The shock
was felt by all in the car who had an un-
broken contact with those packed in the
vestibule against the Green Man.

Mr. Fadiman, Mr. Alex and Mr.
Schwartz boarded the train with ease.

"Mr. Numar," said Sid, "you're a won-
der!"

"You're what this subway system needs,"
said Sam.

"I'm sorry," said Numar, "I didn't mean
for this to happen."

Another guard came pushing through,
grabbed the car door and pulled it shut.
The train started moving from the station.
A new crowd surged around the platform.
Photographers had been busy taking pic-
tures.

"What's the matter with you, Joe?" said
Guard Number Two. "Doncha know we
gotta keep these trains movin'?"

Joe leaned dazedly against the iron rail-

ing.

"Man," he said, "Something must have
gone wrong at the powerhouse. What a
short circuit! It knocked me stiff 1"

VTEW YORK'S afternoon papers went
*^ overboard on Numar. Not since
Lindbergh's unbelievable flight to Paris had
so much front page space and photographs
been devoted to a single individual. The
World-Telegram even had its all-important
weather report crowded off Page 1. Its
editor, Roy Howard, broke another prec-
edent with a boxed in, black-faced edi-
torial which read:

WELCOME TO THIS PLANET!

The Scripps-Howard papers, in keeping
with their custom and reputation of always
being first in the field, now again take the
lead in officially welcoming Numar, this
distinguished visitor from another planet.

While much mystery still surrounds his
arrival here and his personal manifesta-
tions, the one unassailable fact remains that
he has come, we have seen him, and — so
far — all of us have been conquered by him.

The human brain can barely conceive of
any creature traveling a trillion miles
through space. Numar's arrival here comes
at a time when we have been excitedly look-
ing forward to commercial air travel at the
possible rate of 500 miles an hour, placing
Los Angeles within 5 to 6 hours of New
York and London not much longer away.

How amusing this must be to a being who
annihilates time by traveling with the speed
of light!

We hope to learn much from Numar
during his stay here. If we are later proved
to have been premature in extending such
a welcome, we will still feel that we have
been justified in keeping with our forward-
looking policy.

H. I. Phillips, writing for the New York
Sun, had this to say in his famous Sun Dial
column:

It's an old adage that "there's nothing
new under the sun" — but this Sun reporter
wished to declare that Numar is as new as
Adam must have been when he first came
to earth.

If Numar should take one of his ribs
and make himself an Eve, he might start
a new green race on this planet.

The question then is, would he eat a

THE GREEN MAN

113

green apple and start the downfall of man
all over again?

Bugs Baer, in the Journal-American, ex-
ploded in this manner:

Well, folks, you've always wanted the
Baer facts so here they are!

I've seen everything now — pink ele-
phants and green men I So help me, I don't
know which is the most real! Super Man's
grandpappy has arrived from space looking
as fresh and green as though he'd been
shipped here in a hermetically sealed bottle.

Incidentally, most of the boys who met
him at LaGuardia Airport have taken to the
bottle. All the camera men can see, in their
delirium, is "the little green man who wasn't
there." This guy from another planet
doesn't photograph!

The Eastman Kodak Company has their
laboratory staffs working overtime trying
to develop a new emulsion which will bring
Numar's image out on the film.

Meanwhile, the photographers have gone
crazy and are trading their cameras in for
straitjackets.

THE New York Evening Post considered
Numar's arrival of such astronomic
importance that its editors assigned their
writer on Astrology to cover the story. His
item contained this lead:

In answer to a flood of questions, let me
first assure our thousands of betting patrons
and those who live by our daily horoscope
that none of our astrological computations
have been upset by Numar's arrival.

It should be pointed out that he comes
from a section of the universe beyond our
sphere of influence. Other suns, unknown
to us, and other planets concerned with his
local system, control and direct his destiny.

It is not true, as some have suggested,
that discovery of new planets destroys the
entire theory of Astrology. You may still
rely upon the prognostications as given each
day in the Post — IF, of course, you inter-
pret and apply them correctly.

The papers, in their regular news stories,
gave a full account and chronological report
of Numar's activities from the time of his
arrival at LaGuardia Airport. They fea-
tured the photographs which had been made
of Numar at the time of his welcoming by
the Mayor and Mr. Fadiman. Numar, as
Los Angeles photographers had already dis-

covered, was nowhere to be seen. This made
all celebrities who had posed for pictures
with him look slightly, if not hilariously,
ridiculous.

As the Mayor had surmised, the photo-
graph of His Honor, holding a "pretty
baby" on his lap, was too good not to be
used. One of the captions over this little
scene read as follows:

THIS IS HOW OUR MAYOR AT-
TENDS TO OFFICIAL BUSINESS!

A comment in smaller type, underneath
the picture, had this to say:

This should have been a color photo-
graph! The charming young lady who is
preferring the Mayor's lap to a seat in the
subway, is the actress-niece of the eminent
astronomer, Professor Bailey. She, herself,
is a follower of the stars — all those fixed in
the Hollywood, firmament. She was doing
some starring of her own when this picture
was taken. Her ruby lips were a rich green
as were her eyebrows and eyelashes. Her
complexion was a lighter shade of the same
pasture-land color. Her fingernails bore
the same tint as her lips. All in all, she
made quite a delectable dish of greens!
And you can see by the expression on the
Mayor's face that he is pleased no end!

HAD the Mayor not been a man of stout
heart, inured to the barbs of satire,
ridicule and criticism, he no doubt would
have ground his teeth into a pulp. As it
was, he only wadded the paper up into a
ball and jumped on it.

The honorable Clifton Fadiman, getting
in a plug for his "Information, Please" pro-
gram, and also his Book-of-the-Month Club
connection, let himself be quoted in all the
papers as follows:

"Speaking, not only as conductor of "In-
formation, Please', but also as editor of the
Book-of-the-Month Club, I am frank to
say — Numar is the greatest mystery story
I've ever reviewed!"

With this as a send-off, is it any wonder
that human tongues were set wagging and
human ears flapping? This advance pub-
licity had assured "Information, Please" a
bigger listening audience for tonight than
Bob Hope or Jack Benny.

Back in their suites at the Waldorf-As-
toria, the Professor and Mrs. Bailey gently
collansed on their beds. Betty, a little the

114

AMAZING STORIES

worse for wear, was in need of a new green
rhake-up.

Mr. Alex and Mr. Schwartz were sitting
beside one another on the edge of their
bathtub, soaking their dogs in hot water.

"Ye gods, what a day!" said Sid.

"The army never did this to me!" said
Sam.

"It's a good thing we're leaving for
Washington tonight," said Sid.

"Yes," said Sam, "And climb the Wash-
ington monument tomorrow! How did I
ever get mixed up in this! "

"Why did that Green Man have to land
on this planet?" moaned Sid.

Numar, himself, was unfatigued. He
stood by the open window in his suite with
Professor Bailey stretched out on the bed,
drawing in deep breaths of fresh air and
sipping his distilled water.

"A most interesting day," he said.

MRS. BAILEY, while flat on her back
in her suite, still had enough energy
left to take Betty to task.

"Your conduct today would do credit to
a Jezebel!" she said. "Just look at these
papers! Can you think of anything more
disgraceful than your riding on the May-
or's lap?"

"Yes," said Betty, "but I won't mention
it!"

"Sometimes I can't believe that you're
any relation of mine," said Mrs. Bailey.
"Will you please go in the bath room and
take off all that green ornamentation? I
declare to goodness, with your yellow hair,
it makes you look like a dandelion! "

Betty sat down hard on a chair. "Now,
Auntie," she said, "you've touched me to
the quick. I'm wounded immortally. I
don't think I'll ever feel the same!"

"Well, it's about time you came to your
senses," said Mrs. Bailey. "You can't be
a freak like Mr. Numar, no matter how
hard you try!"

Tears began to gather and flutter on
Betty's green eyelashes. "The papers are
making fun of me," she said.

"You're lucky you weren't run out of
town," said Mrs. Bailey. "I simply can't
imagine what those nice picture men must
be thinking of you!"

Betty got up and headed toward the
bath room.

"All right, Auntie," she said. "I guess
the world doesn't appreciate pioneers. I'll
go back to being old-fashioned and I'll

probably die an old maid! " Her eyes sud-
denly widened and a look of great concern
came into them. "Speaking of old maids,"
she said, "Where's Harry? Oh, I hope
nothing terrible's happened to him! I hope
he hasn't forgotten me!"

"You can expect anything," said Mrs.
Bailey, mercilessly. "After the way you've
looked today!"

Betty fled to the bath room and went
to work.

"Of course, I'm who I say I am!" in-
sisted the man in uniform for the umptieth
time. "You've seen my identification!
Now, for Pete's sake, let me out of here!"

"Now, now, not so fast!" said the Ser-
geant. "You could have picked this iden-
tification up along with your flying outfit.
We're checkin' on you in Texas and that
takes time!"

"But, good gosh, I've got important
business! . . . My girl's apt to be leaving
town! You don't know what you're doing
to me!"

"Just keep your shirt on," said the
Sergeant. "If we get a wire back sayin'
you're okay, you'll walk out of here a free

man! "

"But it's almost time for the 'Informa-
tion, Please' program," said the soldier,
"and I've got to go to that!"

The Sergeant laughed and gave a wave
of his hand.

"Aw, you haven't a chance! They've
got the riot squad up at Radio City right
now. There's about fifty thousand people
in the streets. That studio's so packed you
couldn't squeeze another person in with a
shoe horn. Tell you what I'll do! If we
don't get back a report on you before
broadcast time, I'll bring my portable in
your cell and we'll listen to the Green Man
together!"

"Green Man!" raved the incarcerated
victim. "I don't give a damn about the
Green Man! What I want is my girl!"

The Sergeant looked at his prisoner and
shook his head. "Maybe we've got you
in here for the wrong thing," he said.
"Looks like the place for you is the nut
house!"

IT is perhaps a poor and abbreviated pun
on words to suggest that radio's ques-
tion and answer jad may have begun with
Mr. Fadiman and the "Information,
Please" program. Certain it is, that the
kilocycles have almost killed listeners with

THE GREEN MAN

115

the awful cycle of quiz programs which
have followed in its wake. That "Informa-
tion, Please" has still retained its position
as the Number 1 intellectual entertain-
ment on the air, has been attributed largely
to the unorthodox and super educated hu-
mans comprising its board of experts.

They were seated now, each behind a
table microphone, facing out toward an au-
dience which packed the largest National
Broadcasting Company studio and over-
flowed onto the stage. At the head of the
table sat the guest of honor, the mysteri-
ous visitor, Numar. At the other end of
the table sat his host and sponsor, Profes-
sor Bailey. At a separate and smaller ta-
ble sat the one and only Clifton Fadiman,
an expectant look on his face, as he waited
for the red light to flash and the program
to begin,

"Errr! Errr! . . . Err! Errrrrrr!" said
the rooster.

"Wake up, America— it's time to stump
the experts!" said the announcer. "Fifty-
seven varieties presents America's favorite
program—Information, Please' . . . And
now," he continued, after devoting exactly
fifty-five and one-half seconds to the gentle
art of selling, "we turn this program over
to the master of ceremonies, the man who
asks the questions and tries to break the
brain trust — Clifton Fadiman!"

HTHE country's leading intellectual
bowed to the studio audience and wait-
ed patiently for the applause to die down.

"Tonight," he said, in tones of repressed
excitement, " 'Information, Please' holds
the rare and unparalleled distinction of hav-
ing as its guest a man from another planet.
Mr. Numar, of the planet Talamaya, a
trillion miles away from us — as the crow
flies — has been on earth little more than
seventy-two hours, yet — in that short space
of time, he has managed to baffle fifty-
seven different varieties of experts.

"This evening, he encounters our own
special brand of experts on 'Information,
Please'. These learned gentlemen, Mr.
F. P. Adams, Mr. John Kieran and Mr.
Oscar Levant have come here tonight in
their finest possible mental fettle.

"I think you listeners would be inter-
ested in knowing that Mr. Adams has been
studying the stars like mad since he learned
Mr. Numar was to be on this program. Mr.
Kieran has prepared himself by reviewing
the entire works of Jules Verne and re-

reading H. G. Wells' story of the Martian
Invasion. As for Oscar Levant, he can-
celled a concert tour and came in off the
road to be with us tonight.

"In that connection, Mr. Levant wishes
me to apologize for him to the good people
of Altoona, Pennsylvania, who will hear
his fine rendition of George Gershwin's
'Rhapsody in Blue' at a later date. There,
Oscar — I hope that relieves your
mind . . . ?"

"Not quite!" said Oscar, "you forget to
mention — tickets three bucks, including
tax!"

"M.C." Fadiman smiled for the studio
audience and chuckled for the radio audi-
ence.

"It seems like we're having to do a lot of
explaining tonight," he said, "but this is no
ordinary occasion. Our other guest to-
night is the noted astronomer, Professor
Willam Bailey of Mount Wilson Observa-
tory. We hope, Professor, if Mr. Numar
leaves our experts too speechless, you will
come to their rescue.

"Now, as you all know, this 'Informa-
tion, Please' program is completely infor-
mal and unrehearsed. I am the only one
who knows the questions and answers for
I have them right in front of me, written
on little cards. The first expert or guest
who raises his hand after the question is
read, gets the privilege of answering it.

"One final word regarding the questions.
Our sponsors, the Makers of Fifty-Seven
Varieties, deemed it only right and fitting
that our questions tonight should be sub-
mitted by the more prominent intellects of
our time. Acting upon this suggestion, we
have solicited their weighty contributions.
If your name is not among those used, we
hope you will not feel too slighted.

"And now, gentlemen and Mr. Numar,
with these necessary preliminaries out of
the way, we proceed to the first question
which is from Mr. Fred Allen . . ."

HpHERE was a titter of laughter from
the studio audience.
"Mr. Allen states," he continued, " 'You
came to the right brain cell when you in-
vited me to present a question on your
cosmic broadcast. I've lived in a world of
stars all my life. Now, here's my fifty-seven
dollar question . . ! ' " Mr. Fadiman con-
sulted his card. "You'll have to get all five
of these right . . . Mr. Allen wants you
to name five different types of heavenly

116

AMAZING STORIES

bodies."

"I know that onel " said Oscar. "Hedy
Lamar, Betty Grable, Dorothy Lamour,
Anne Sheridan — and my wife! Boy, am I
glad I thought of her!"

"That's very interesting, Mr. Levant —
and very educational," said Mr. Fadiman,
"but none of those names are on the list I
have here."

"Well, they should be!" Said Oscar.
"You're missing something!"

The studio audience roared.

"Let's keep our discussion academic, Mr.
Levant," said Mr. Fadiman. Then, turn-
ing to the guest of honor, "Mr. Numar,
will you please enlighten our impetuous
young man?"

Numar leaned forward in his chair, with
his green countenance close to the micro-
phone. His tone was clear and even as he
spoke, with a dignity which was at once
compelling.

"Do you wish me to list only the types
of heavenly bodies that you humans know
about?" .

The conductor of "Information, Please,"
coughed and looked sheepishly at the an-
swer card in his hand. "I guess you'd
better," he said, "or we won't have any
means of checking."

The studio audience was all eyes and
open mouths.

"The five heavenly bodies requested by
Mr. Allen and perhaps most familiar to
you," said Numar, "are comets, meteors,
stars, planets and asteroids."

The answer drew applause and Numar
smiled as though amused.

"Very good," commended Mr. Fadiman,
"This agrees perfectly with my own infor-
mation." The cash register tinkled. "Un-
fortunately, however, Mr. Levant gave his
answer first which has just cost us fifty-
seven dollars and a set of the Encyclope-
dia ..."

"You'll get the Encyclopedia back," said
Oscar, "Fred won't know what to do with
it!"

Mr. Fadiman gave Mr. Levant what
passed for a look of reproof. It would have
been good for television.

"Our next question," he said, "comes
from our good friend, Eleanor Roosevelt.
She has written a little note in which she
says, 'This news about Mr. Numar fasci-
nates me. I am especially interested in any-
one who travels. I feel that there is some-
thing definitely broadening in going about

from place to place. That's why I always
keep on the move. But, when I consider
how Mr. Numar gets about, I must con-
fess to feeling quite like a novice! . . .
Now, here is my question . . .' "

MR. FADIMAN looked up at his board
of experts. "I think you gentlemen
should get all of this . . . Mrs. Roosevelt
asks, 'If I were to fly through space, what
three constellations might I use as a means
of transportation?' ... All right, may I
have a show of hands?" Mr. Fadiman
drummed the table with his fingers.
"Come, come, gentlemen! Don't tell me
that Mrs. Roosevelt has stumped you all!"
John Kieran half raised his arm.
"All right, Mr. Kieran — you tell us."
"Well," said John, feeling his way. "If
Mrs. Roosevelt wanted to fly through the
heavens, she could probably travel on the
Swan — that's what the constellation 'Cyg-
nus' means. ... Or, I suppose she could
take a ride on the Winged Horse, or 'Pega-
sus' . . . Then, of course, there's the Eagle
which is known as 'Aquila' ... I presume,
for sentimental reasons, she'd take the
eagle! "

The studio audience burst into applause.

"Excellent, Mr. Kieran, excellent! "
praised Mr. Fadiman. "You have restored
my confidence in the human race!" He
eyed Mr. Levant who promptly made a
face at him.

"This question is from Edna St. Vincent
Millay," continued the master of ceremo-
nies. Then, as an informative aside to the
guest of honor,. "Miss Millay is perhaps
our greatest livirfg poetess."

"A really great poet is rare throughout
the universe," said Numar.

"Well, well!" said Mr. Fadiman, "That's
interesting to know. Congratulations, Miss
Millay — if you're listening in!" Then he
looked down at the card. "Her question
is . . . boys, I think you should get all
three of these . . . 'Name three songs or
poems in which the word "star" is used ! ' "

There was a show of hands.

"Well, Mr. Adams, it's about time we
were hearing from you this evening. Where
have you been?" beamed Mr. Fadiman.

"I've been lost in the Milky Way," said
Mr. Adams, clasping his hands in front of
him and rolling his eyes.

"Dear, dear — what a place to be!" twit-
ted Mr. Fadiman. "You'd better stay out
of Mr. Numar's backyard."

THE GREEN MAN

117

HPHE gentleman known as F.P.A. pursed
his lips and looked skyward. " 'Twin-
kle, twinkle, little star,' " he said.

Numar eyed him strangely.

"Very good!" cheered Mr. Fadiman.
"Can you go on?"

Mr. Adams knit his brow in two places.
He -tapped it with the tips of his fingers.

"Yes — I — believe I can," he said. " 'How
I wonder what you are . . . Up above the
earth so high . . ."'

" '. . . Like a diamond in the sky ! ' " fin-
ished Oscar Levant.

Mr. Adams put his head down and
looked deeply wounded.

"Mr. Levant!" rebuked Mr. Fadiman,
"you're most impolite tonight. You know
you're supposed to raise your hand before
you speak!"

"I was afraid he wouldn't get it," said
Oscar. "Shall I sing it for you? It goes
something like this . . ." He began to beat
time in the air, humming to himself, then
broke into snatches of song: " '. . . though
I dream in vain ... in my heart ... la,
dee, da . . . will remain ... a Stardust
melody . . . the melody of love's refrain
. . .' Or something like that 1"

"Mr. Adams, you knew that last line,
didn't you?" queried Mr. Fadiman.

"Indubitably," said Mr. Adams.

The studio audience laughed and broke
into applause.

"You see, Mr. Levant, your assistance
was entirely unnecessary," said Mr. Fadi-
man. "That makes one right. Now, who
else? Professor Bailey, do I see your
hand?"

Professor Bailey started. "Why, yes, I
guess you do," he said, a bit sheepishly.
"I didn't know it was up!"

"Do you have an answer?" asked Mr.
Fadiman.

" 'I've told every little star, just how
sweet I think you are,' " said the Professor,
timidly.

"Why, that's very nice of you!" said Mr.
Fadiman. "Do you suppose you could sing
that for us?"

The Professor blushed. "Well, I don't
know as to that!"

There was a ripple of encouraging ap-
plause.

r ~PHE Professor started out in a voice
*~ which quavered at first but gathered
strength as he went along. He knew the
jrords and, as he finished, he had fixed his

eyes on Mrs. Bailey who was seated in the
front row.

" '. . . I've told every little star, just
how sweet I think you are — why haven't I
told you?" he sang, ending on a little note
of triumph.

The studio reverberated with applause
and Mrs. Bailey dabbed tears from her
eyes.

"Of course that's an exaggeration," she
whispered to Betty. "There's too many
stars to tell every one of them — but that
was sweet ... I haven't heard him sing in
years."

"Well, Mr. Adams," Mr. Fadiman was
saying, "You have a real rival at last. You
have an excellent voice, Professor. You're
not only a great astronomer . . . well — we're
uncovering new talents on our 'Information,
Please' every week! . . . We need one more
answer on this question. Who has it?"

" 'When you wish upon a star!' " sang
Mr. Adams, in a cracked voice.

"That's enough!" said Mr. - Fadiman.
"After Professor Bailey, that's sacrilege!
. . . All right, gentlemen, we've gotten safely
past that question. Here's the next one. It's
from Secretary of the Treasury Morgen-
thau. He's had us thinking in astronomical
figures for years. There's one man, Mr.
Numar, who can comprehend a trillion
miles! Mr. Morgenthau wants to know,
'How far is the moon from the earth? How
far is the sun from the earth? And, how far
is the most distant planet in our solar sys-
tem from us?' We should be able to get
two out of three on this."

"That's a cinch!" chirped Mr. Levant.
"But the first part of that question isn't
clear. Does Mr. Morgenthau want the dis-
tance of the earth from the moon when the
moon is full or halj full?"

"He wants the answer, whether you're
full or half full," said Mr. Fadiman.

"Oh," said Oscar, subsiding, "That's dif-
ferent!"

"Then you don't want to answer the
question?" asked Mr. Fadiman.

"No," said Oscar, pouting. "I've been
insulted."

Mr. Kieran raised his hand. "On a dark
night," he said, looking quizzically at Mr.
Levant, "the mean distance of the moon
from the earth is exactly 238,855 miles!"

"Is that correct, Professor Bailey?"
asked Mr. Fadiman.

"All but the last digit," said the Pro-

AMAZING STORIES

fessor. "It should have been a '7'."

"So he was off two miles," piped Oscar.
"Who cares?"

"You forget, Mr. Levant," reminded Mr.
Fadiman, "Astronomy is an exact science.
Now, who knows how far the earth is from
the sun?"

"On a cold or a hot day?" asked Mr.
Levant.

"You are splitting infinitesimal hairs,"
said Mr. Fadiman.

"Well, that might alter my estimate by a
couple of miles," said Oscar.

"Let's stop all this quibbling," said Mr.
Adams. "Even a school boy knows the sun
is ninety-three million miles from the
earth!"

"But I'm not a school boy," said Mr.
Levant.

"He never went to school," said Mr.
Kieran.

"That's right," said Oscar. "I'm a self-
made man. You guys have to get your
knowledge from books. I get mine out of
my own head ! "

^"UMAR'S face spread into a broad
■*■ ^ smile.

"Do you think I'm kiddin'?" Oscar
added.

"He's not kidding," said Mr. Fadiman,
"he's bragging! . . . But let's get back
to this program. I can't imagine what our
guest of honor must be thinking of this
puerile display of intelligence!"

"This is very interesting," said Numar.
"Humor is enjoyed throughout the uni-
verse."

"You see," said Oscar, "I'm not so dumb
after all!"

"Enough of your life history!" said Mr.
Fadiman. "Let's get the last part of this
question. I know Mr. Morgenthau must be
waiting patiently, somewhere, for it."

"What was the question?" asked Oscar.

"If you'd keep quiet for a moment and
pay attention," said Mr. Fadiman, "you
might know!"

"Who's talking?" said Oscar.

The conductor of "Information, Please"
tried a tack of utter indifference. "What
is the planet most distant from this earth?"
he asked.

The experts registered a complete set of
blank expressions.

"Mr. Numar," addressed the impeccable
interrogator of "Information, Please," "per-
haps you can enlighten us?"

Numar bowed and bent toward the mi-
crophone. "The answer, according to your
card, is Pluto," he said. "And its distance
from the Earth is three billion miles — but
Pluto is by no means the most distant
planet. There are planets so far away from
your earth that it would take an eternity
of time to reach them."

"Think of that!" said Mr. Fadiman.

"I can't," said Oscar. "It hurts my
brain."

"He's bragging again," said F.P.A.

Mr. Fadiman tapped on the table for
order. He shuffled the cards before him;
"My, we have so many profound questions
here tonight, it's difficult to choose. Here's
one from that great Shakespearean actor,
Walter Hampden. He wants you gentle-
man to give five quotations from Shakes-
peare in which reference is made to
'heaven'."

Mr. Kieran's hand shot up.

'"My hopes in heaven do dwell'!" he
said.

"What an honest confession!" said Mr.
Adams.

"That's from Henry, the Eighth, Act
Three, Scene Two . . ."
"What page?" asked Oscar.

MR. KIERAN looked up at the ceiling
and rubbed a finger alongside his

nose.

"In my edition — page . . . four hundred
and fifty-nine!" he said.

He received a tremendous ovation.

"Now, Mr. Levant, will you be good?"
said Mr. Fadiman. "That's truly re-
markable, Mr. Kieran. I don't have that
information on my card but I accept your
word for it."

Mr. Kieran lowered his eyebrows to per-
mit a modest blush to pass.

"All right! Who has another Shake-
spearean quotation with the word 'heaven'
in it?"

"T shall see you in the next world'!"
popped Oscar. " 'World' means 'heaven',
doesn't it . . . Who wrote that?;"

"Not I," said Mr. Adams, "or Shake-
speare, either!"

Mr. Kieran raised his head, a look of
recognition in his eyes.

" 'Apud orcum te videbo'," he recited.

"What's that mean?" asked Oscar.

"What you just said!"

"It doesn't sound like it!"

"Of course not, silly boy!" said Mr.

THE GREEN MAN

119

Adams. "That was Latin!"

"Oh!" said Oscar, "Kieran Latin in
Manhattan! . . . Why don't you tell a guy
before you switch languages on him?"

"Your quotation was by Plautus, from
his writing, 'Asinaria'," informed Mr. Kier-
an.

"It was!" said Oscar, pleasantly sur-
prised. "How do you know these things?"

"He studies, Mr. Levant," said Mr. Fadi-
man. "He applies himself. He has an
orderly mind."

"Then how come / know these things?"
demanded Oscar.

"I suspect because your mind is like a
sponge," said Mr. Fadiman. "Now, please
stop interrupting. Mr. Kieran, do you have
another answer?"

" 'I'll follow thee and make a heaven of
hell'," recited Mr. Kieran. " 'To die upon
the hand I love so well.' That's from 'A
Midsummer Night's Dream', Act Two,
Scene I . . ."

"What page?" challenged Oscar.

"I forget," said Mr. Kieran.

Oscar beamed. "You're slipping!" he
said.

"Mr. Numar!" recognized Mr. Fadiman.
"Is your hand up?"

VTUMAR nodded as all banter ceased
^ ^ and the three experts turned his way.

"Shakespeare's most familiar quotation
containing the word 'heaven' has not yet
been mentioned," he said.

"Which one is that?" asked Mr. Fadi-
man, with raised brows.

" 'There are more things in heaven and
earth than are dreamt of in your philoso-
phy'," said Numar, quietly.

"Gosh!" said Oscar. "How's Mr. Numar
know that? ... Is Shakespeare on his planet
now?"

"It was in Mr. Kieran's mind," smiled
Numar, "waiting to be expressed."

"That's very good," laughed Mr. Kier-
an. "I was just going to raise my hand."

"So Numar's a second Dunninger!"
cracked Oscar. "Boy, have I got to watch
my thinking! "

A murmur of wondering comment passed
through the audience.

"That's not fair," complained Mr. Ad-
ams. "If Mr. Numar read our minds, then
he's getting his knowledge from us. That's
against the Queensbury rules!"

Mr. Fadiman looked a trifle upset.

"You don't really read minds, do you,

Mr. Numar?" he asked.

Numar smiled and nodded. "That is
one of our regular means of communica-
tion," he said. "You will acquire this fac-
ulty in time."

"What's my wife doing now?" chirped
Oscar.

"Stop it!" commanded Mr. Fadiman.
"This is a radio program, not a seance. We
must get on to the next question. It is
asked by the famous physicist, Dr. Arthur
Compton. He wants to know 'when did
the human race originate on this earth?' "

Mr. Kieran's hand was first up.

"It's only a guess. Science doesn't really
know. Between five hundred thousand and
a million years ago."

"My ancestors don't go back that far,"
said Oscar.

"Not any further than the Bronx zoo,"
quipped F.P.A.

"Gentlemen!" scolded Mr. Fadiman
good humoredly. "Please keep your rela-
tives out of this! ... I think I can ac-
cept your answer, Mr. Kieran . . . that is
. . . unless . . . Mr. Numar, did you
wish to say something?"

The Green Man had taken hold of his
microphone.

"Yes," he said. "I was slightly over a
million years old at the time and I recall
the exact moment human life originated
on your planet, since I was* assigned to
study events here."

The wise men of "Information, Please,"
stared at the guest of honor. Mr. Fadiman
dropped the card he was holding to the
floor.

"Did I hear you correctly?" he asked in
unbelieving tones.

"You did," assured Numar. "Our scien-
tists, with their highly developed instru-
ments, had been keeping a record of all
important evolutionary developments on
your planet as well as many others. We had
been watching with great interest the pre-
human life stages on your earth. We were
waiting to see what forms of life would
finally come together to originate a crea-
ture of higher intelligence here."

"And you actually saw or heard or in
some way knew of the time and occasion
when our human species came into being?"
exclaimed the giver-away of Encyclopedias.

"I remember it as though it were yester-
day," said Numar. "What you call 'Man'
came into existence on this planet — com-
puting these figures on the basis of the
present moment — exactly nine hundred

120

AMAZING STORIES

eighty-seven thousand, five hundred twen-
ty-three years, four months, eight days,
thirteen hours and — according to that clock
on the wall — fifty-seven minutes ago!"
_ Mr. Fadiman had to find his voice and
when he did, he said: "That's remarkable,
Mr. Numar. But, according to that same
studio clock, our program time's about up.
I'm sorry we couldn't hear more from you
but it seems that our Mr. Levant thought
he was the star of the show. But we would
have enjoyed hearing more from you. Do
you have any comment now you would like
to make?"*

Numar leaned toward the microphone, as
though he had anticipated this moment.
The audience, which had come largely to hear
and see him, sat on the edge of its chairs.

"Yes," said the man from another planet,
as each listener hung on his every word, "I
would like to announce that this Saturday,
between halves of the Chicago-Notre
Dame football game, I will have something
of great importance to say to the world! "

The suave interrogator of "Information,
Please" made a mighty effort to recover his
savoir-faire. "Thank you, Mr. Numar and
Professor Baily for being with us tonight,"
he said. "Your presence here was very en-
lightening!"

The demands of the closing commercial
cut Mr. Fadiman off the air.

"Jeez!" said Sam, as he stood with Sid
against the back wall of the studio audi-
torium, with everyone buzzing around him.
"That Numar's no dumbbell! What a plug
he got in for his talk on Saturday! "

"Yeah!" said Sid, "and, Brother, it had
better be good!"

I'D like some information, please," re-
quested a young flying officer, of the girl
at the information booth at Radio City.

He had literally fought his way through a
crowd which still jammed the streets out-
side and packed the lower level of the Na-
tional Broadcasting Company building. In
the hubbub around her, the girl had not
quite heard this young man correctly.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said. " 'Information,
Please' is just over. You couldn't get in to
see it anyway. That's what all this crowd's
about."

"I know that," said the young flight
lieutenant, impatiently. "I said I'd like
some information, please!"

"Oh," said the girl, "what is it? I'd be*
glad to help you."

"Well, my name's Lieutenant Harry
Hopper. I must reach Mr. Numar and his
party. Will they be coming this way?"

The girl eyed the soldier, warily. "I real-
ly couldn't say, sir," she said.

"I've got to know!" said Harry. "Isn't
there someone here who can tell me?"

"You might see the head usher over
there," said the girl.

"Thanks!" said Harry.

The head usher was a handsome looking
4-F, six feet, six inches tall. He could real-
ly see what was going on and, this evening,
he hadn't liked the view at all. It had been
the maddest night in Radio City history.
None of the outstanding radio stars, either
with give-aways or box tops, had ever
pulled such a crowd. This was one of those
inexplainable phantasms of an unpredicta-
ble business. You could never tell what was
going to take the public by the ears.

"Yes, sir, what can I do for you?" said
the head usher.

The young flying officer tried the ap-
proach of the long green. He held out a
dollar bill. "You can slip me in an elevator
and get me up to Mr. Numar and his
party," he said.

The head usher pushed back the money.
"Sorry, Bud, it's no go," he said. "I could
have made a hundred bucks that way to-
night. I've got strict orders. That studio's
jammed and the crowd's just starting to
break now. Please step out of the way.
When these elevators open, you'll get run
over."

A look of wild frustration came into the
face of the flight lieutenant. "You don't

*Scientists have been trying to estimate the date
of Man's appearance on this planet for many years
with little success. They have devised many
"clocks" such as the uranium method of determin-
ing the age of rocks ; but in the final analysis, the
various branches of science, because they have
been "specializing," have failed to agree. For in-
stance, a geologist will tell you that the age of
certain rock strata in which artifacts are found
are so many thousands of years old, and then point
to other strata presumed to be a hundred million
years old, containing human or semi-human re-
mains. Archeologists place the oldest man on earth
at between 25,000 years and 75,000 years. On the
strength of existing ruined cities, dwellings, caves,
others will go back only some six thousand years.
Astronomy gives other dates. Perhaps BEST evi-
dence lies in legends. So far, only a book named
Oahspe has successfully correlated all legends into
a reasonable continuity. It would be well for more
investigation to be made into these legends.— Ed.

THE GREEN MAN

121

understand!" he said. "I'm engaged to be
married and my girl . . .! "

The head usher pushed him to one side.
"If she's upstairs, youH have to take your
chances on finding her as she comes out.
Get back in that line, sirl"

Harry Hopper had always been a re-
sourceful young man. He had known his
way about New York but never, in all his
life, had he received such a pushing around
as he had been getting recently. An astrolo-
ger would have said that he must be operat-
ing under a bad sign. Something must be
wrong with his planets. But Harry, himself,
knew what was wrong. It was this guy from
another planet who had caused him all this
trouble!

"When I get to Numar," he vowed, "it'll
be murder in the first degree! "

FOR three quarters of an hour, Harry
permitted himself to be stepped on,
jostled and pushed as he watched desper-
ately for some glimpse of the girl of his
dreams — and Numar. Those waiting in the
lobby and on the street for a sight of the
Green Man, were apparently just as disap-
pointed as Harry. But no ordinary human
would have risked life and limb in such a
mob and broadcasting officials were seeing
to it that Numar, himself, was protected.
He and his party had been spirited out a
secret exit and hurried back to the Waldorf-
Astoria.

When Harry realized that he had missed
Betty, he made a dash for the street and
started running along Fiftieth toward Park
Avenue. Arriving at the hotel, he asked to
be connected with the Numar suite.

"Hello!" said Mr. Alex.

"Is Miss Betty Bracken there?"

The two talent scouts were packed, ready
to leave for the night train to Washington.
Sid put his hand over the mouthpiece and
said to Sam, "It's him again!"

"That's not very considerate," said Sam.
"He might at least have given us a chance
to get out of the hotel ! "

"The guy sounds like he's slightly upset,"
said Sid. "You don't suppose he'd have it in
for us for getting him arrested, do you?"

"It's possible," said Sam. "Anyway, it
was your idea. I'll go out and round up the
rest of our party and take 'em to the train.
You stay here and see what the guy wants."

"Nothing doing," said Sid. "This is a
two-man job. This bird can cause us plenty
of trouble. I've got an idea but I need your

help." He turned back to the phone. "You
say you want to see Miss Bracken?"

"Yes," said the voice. "Right away!"

"Fine! " said Sid. "Come up to 28-B ! "

Sam looked at Sid. "What're you going
to do this time?"

"Never mind, you just do what I tell
you," said Sid. "I didn't work on all those
horror pictures for nothing."

He jerked the telephone cords loose from
the wall, disrupting all service in the suite.

"Put that key in the bedroom door," he
directed.

Sam did as instructed. "What part do /
play in this great drama?" he asked.

"When I get him in the bedroom, you
pull the door shut and lock it," said Sid.

"That's simple," said Sam.

There was a racket at the door. Sid
grabbed up their bags and tiptoed across
the room, setting them down near the door,
which he opened.

"Well, hello!" he greeted. "Miss Brack-
en's been waiting for you! Where have you
been?"

"You know damned well where I've
been!" said the lieutenant, striding in. "I'll
attend to you guys later. Where is she?"

"Right in there!" said Sid, gesturing to
the bedroom.

"So, it's just as I thought! " raged Harry.

He rushed into the bedroom.

This was Sam's cue and he took it. The
door was shut and locked.

"Here's your bag," said Sid. "I think
we'd better be going!"

There was a hammering on the bedroom
door and what sounded like someone yelling
for help.

"These drunks sure make an awful lot
of noise," said Sam.

They closed and locked the outer door.

"So far, so good," said Sid. "This should
keep him amused for some time."

IT required two taxis to take Numar and
his party to the Pennsylvania Station
where they were to board a sleeper for the
nation's capitol. Mr. Alex and Mr. Sch-
wartz, old hands at handling train accom-
modations and traveling problems, had ar-
ranged everything. On a flip of the coin, Sid
took charge of Numar and the Professor,
while Sam shepherded the women out of the
hotel to the waiting cabs.

As they reached the sidewalk, they found
a curious crowd, standing as a respectful
distance, looking up at a window on the

122

AMAZING STORIES

twenty-eighth floor. From the window,
everything that was apparently movable in
the room was flying. Sid and Sam looked
up just in time to see a chair come sailing
down. It bounced off the roof of the nearest
taxi and ricocheted into the street.

Shielding their heads, everyone in Nu-
mar's party made a dash for it. A wall
mirror landed right behind them. Safely
entrenched in the cabs, Sid and Sam stuck
their heads out the windows.

"Imagine this happening at the Wal-
dorf!" said Sam.

"It's disgraceful," said Sid, "I'm glad
I'm leaving the place."

The cabs started to pull away from the
curb. Sam looked upward.

"Oh, my God!" he said. "Look, Sid! . . .
He's pushing out the bed!"

SENATOR ALFRED B. HOOLIHAN,
in a morning suit and spats, with a
white carnation in his button hole, looking
more like an undertaker than a politician,
paced importantly up and down in Wash-
ington's Union Station.

It was time for the night train from New
York to arrive, bearing the now terrifically
sensational Numar and his party. The
Senator was a big man, at least physically,
and spent his waiting moments jubilantly
trying to pat himself on the back. Wash-
ington reporters and camera men were
present, although the public had not been
advised as to the time of Numar's arrival.

"I surely played a right hunch when I
invited Numar to Washington as my
guest!" the former isolationist Senator said
to himself. "There'll be no bills passed in
the Senate and House today! All anyone
can think about is this Green Man's ap-
pearance before both houses of Congress.
The President, himself, can hardly wait to
meet him. I mean no disrespect to Eleanor
when I say that this is certainly 'My
Day'!"

The Senator had a copy of New York's
Daily Mirror in his hand. He stopped now
to re-read Walter Winchell's column. This
is what he saw:

WALTER WINCHEIX

Numar, the Green Man-About-Space,
yesterday became New York's leading man-
about-town. The whole country, Numar-
ically speaking, is this 'n' that way about
him.

Make no mistake — this Numar is a

shocking individual. He has the skin you
love not to touch. Your reporter offered
himself as a guinea pig yesterday morning
and was nicely roasted on all sides. In fact,
he is still being roasted.

This Numar appears to be quite a Nu-
miracle. We don't know whether he came
from another planet or not but we could not
pin Izzy Zwankenstein of Brooklyn on him.
According to Numar, Zwankenstein and
Brooklyn must have been "two other fel-
lows."

Your little boy, Walter, admits that this
Green Man's got him guessing. It's been
suggested that he may be a reincarnation of
the two Harrys — Thurston and Houdini.
Whatever he is, his style of magic has never
been seen on earth!

Numar's got the camera clickers talking
in their sleep. He didn't show up in any of
their pictures and the same goes for the
news reels. Consequently, he's been chosen
by the picture snappers as "the subject
they would most like not to photo-
graph!"

Speaking of photographs, Dorothy La-
mour lost her sarong the other yawning,
while making a re-take of the picture,
"Revelation". Those who saw her said she
was a sin-spiration! . . .

"When Walter Winchell goes overboard
for anyone like this," said Senator Hollihan,
"that means something! Look how he's
jumped on Martin Dies and Nye — and me!
I guess, after today, he'll change his tunel "

HpHE night train from New York was
A now backing into the station. Reporters
and camera men rushed down the platform
ahead of the Senator. They had welcomed
every kind of celebrity on earth with a cal-
loused indifference but, this morning, there
was an air of genuine interest and excite-
ment. Here was something totally new and
refreshing!

"I much prefer traveling by plane," Mrs.
Bailey was saying as she moved down the
aisle with Betty and Mr. Schwartz. "You
don't have any wheels pounding under you
all night. They might at least have greased
them. One of them squealed frightfully
every time we turned a corner!"

"You mean— took a curve," said Sam.

"Well, whatever it was," said Mrs.
Bailey. "It was very disturbing!" Then,
turning to Betty, "I must say you look like
a new girl this morning. That red dress is

THE GREEN MAN

123

very becoming. Of course, I think your lips
and your fingernails are too bright but since
they're not green, I won't object."

"Do you think the President will like
this?" asked Betty.

"Land sakes, child! You're not going to
see the President! He's only interested in
seeing Mr. Numar!"

"I'll bet you I se.e the President!" said
Betty. "Want to bet, Mr. Schwartz?"

"I bet on horses, not dames," said Sam.
"You can tell what a horse is going to do —
at least part of the time."

Numar, Professor Bailey and Mr. Alex
were in the aisle ahead of them, slowly
moving toward the vestibule. The pas-
sengers, before and after them, were natu-
rally all eyes and slowing up their progress.

"This should be a big day," said Mr.
Alex, addressing Numar. "By the time you
get through speaking to Congress and see-
ing the President, you can have anything
you want in this country!"

"I desire nothing," said Numar.

"Just the same," said Sid, lowering his
voice and giving a backward glance at Sam.
"When you get through pulling your cam-
era trick, and want to appear in pictures,
don't forget M.G.M.!"

Numar looked at Mr. Alex. "What
makes you think my not photographing is
a trick?" he asked.

Mr. Alex stared, uncertainly. "Well —
it's got to be, hasn't it? Things like that
just don't happen here! "

They had now reached the car steps and
were descending to the platform. The
usual light bulbs were exploding.

"It's no use, boys!" said Mr. Alex, wav-
ing his hand. "You're wasting your film!"

But they only 1 laughed and kept on snap-
ping.

Reporters with paper and pencil in hand
pressed around the Green Man.

"Well, Mr. Numar," said one of them.
"You certainly turned New York upside
down!"

"New York was very kind to me," said
Numar.

"I heard you on 'Information, Please'
last night," said a second reporter. "You
didn't have much to say. Somebody should
shoot that Oscar Levant!"

"I thought Mr. Levant very amusing,"
said Numar.

"But Mr. Fadiman was right — the public
wanted to hear from you!"

"The public is going to hear from me,"

said Numar. "Tomorrow afternoon, be-
tween halves of the football game at Chi-
cago!"

Pencils scribbled furiously.

"What are you going to talk about to-
morrow?" asked a man from the Post.
"Mrs. Patterson wants to know."

"Tell Mrs. Patterson to listen in on her
radio," said Numar, pleasantly.

"But can't you give us a tip as to what
you're going to say?" persisted the news
man.

"I'm sorry," said Numar, "that is not
permitted."

"Not permitted!" exclaimed a reporter.
"Not permitted — by whom?"

"By the ones who sent me here," said
Numar.

The newspaper men looked at one an-
other dazedly and did some more scrib-
bling.

"The guy talks in circles," said one.
"He doesn't make sense," said another.

CENATOR ALFRED B. HOOLIHAN
M had been having difficulty getting
through to Numar and his little group, who
were hemmed in by the crowd of passen-
gers as well as the newspaper people.

Betty spied him first. "Oh, Uncle! . . .
Mr. Numar! . . . I believe that's the
Senator you're waiting for! ... Yes, I'm
sure it is! ... Won't you people please
stand aside and let the Senator through?"

"Hello!" said a reporter, eyeing her.
"Who's the little red riding hood?"

"That must be the gal in green who's
traveling with Numar," guessed a fellow
reporter, "Only she's changed colors
on us!"

The crowd had made a lane for the
Senator in answer to Betty's request.

"Thank you, my dear young lady,"
said Senator Hoolihan, removing his high
top hat and bowing. "This is indeed a
great honor to be meeting all you good
people! I presume this is Mrs. Bailey and
Professor Bailey . . . and, of course — Mr.
Numar!"

He shook hands with the Professor and
extended his hand to the man he had
invited to Washington. Numar took it,
graciously, and smiled.

"Well, I suppose you'd all like to get
to the hotel as quickly as possible and
freshen up," said the Senator. "I always
hate these sleeper jumps from New York.
They bounce you around a great deal."

124

AMAZING STORIES

"They certainly do," said Mrs. Bailey.
"And there's a wheel on this train they
ought to have fixed!"

The voice of a Western Union boy could
now be heard.

"Telegram for Miss Betty Bracken!"
he was calling. "Miss Betty Bracken . . .
Is Miss Betty Bracken . . . ?"

"Why, that's me!" said Betty, sur-
prised. "Right here, boy! Yoo hoo!"

The boy stopped, looked her direction
and whistled. He came on the run.

"My!" said Betty, "I can't imagine
who'd be wiring me. Maybe it's a stage
offer!" She tore open the yellow envelope
and then looked up. "Oh, Senator — I
haven't any change. Will you tip the boy
for me, please?"

Senator Hoolihan jingled some coins in
his pocket, brought them out in his palm,
pawed a half dollar and a quarter aside,
and took out a dime. As he handed it to
the messenger he saw the reporters were
watching.

"I've got to be careful with the tax-
payers' money," he said.

The reporters laughed and recorded his
comment. Senator Hoolihan was mightily
pleased with himself. This was good pub-
lic relations. It was high time for economy
in government and this quotation of his
might sweep the country. It had been so
long since any politician had shown any
concern over the taxpayers' money that
this simple statement should get the head-
lines. It might even run Numar a close
second!

Betty was now reading the wire. "Why,
it's from Harry!" she cried as she read it.
"I don't understand this at all ! ... Listen
to what he says: 'Was locked in your hotel
bedroom by men who claim they represent
you. Am flying to Washington. Please
leave message for me with Western Union,
your city, advising where you are stopping,
so I can find you on arrival. Love.
Harry.' "

Betty looked up. Mrs. Bailey and
Schwartz were standing beside her. "This
is the strangest thing," she said. Then,
catching Senator Hoolihan by the coat
sleeve, she turned him about. The Senator
had been posing for pictures with Numar
and Professor Bailey.

"Excuse me a minute," said Betty. "But
can you tell me where we are stopping?"

' I "HE Senator was a trifle annoyed as
politicians usually are when anyone

interrupts them at such important mo-
ments.

"I have reservations at the Mayflower,"
he said, and turned his back on her again.
"That's no good," said Sam, helpfully.
"You won't be there much of the time.
Better just wire your boy friend that you're
stopping at the White House."

"Yes," said Betty, brightly. "I guess
that would be safer. Will you take care
of this for me?"

"Glad to!" said Sam. "Leave everything
to me. What's your Sweetie's name?"

"It's Lieutenant Harry Hopper," said
Betty.

Sam turned to the messenger who was
still standing by.

"Boy," he said, "take this wire!"

The messenger held his pad in readiness.
"Shoot!" he said.

"To 'Lieutenant Harry Hopper, Care
of Western Union, Washington, D. C.' . . .
Here's the message . . ." Sam turned
sidewise so that Betty, who was trying to
edge into the pictures, would not hear.
" 'Am stopping at White House,' " he dic-
tated. " 'Get in touch with me through
the President' . . . Sign that, 'Oodles of
love and kisses. Betty."

"That'll be thirty cents, plus tax," said
Western Union.

"Send it collect," said Sam. "Mr. Hopper
will pay for it when he picks it up. And
here, boy — here's half a buck for your-
self!"

The messenger boy had one bad eye
which revolved in its socket. "Thank you,
Mr. Morgenthau," he said.

"Sid will love me for this," said Sam
to himself, as he looked after the depart-
ing messenger. "That wire ought to fix
that guy — but good!"

CENATOR HOOLIHAN had rented a
^ large seven passenger limousine from
Celebrities Taxi Service, Incorporated.
Such a car was used only for state funerals
and receptions. A liveried chauffeur came
with it and all the trappings. The only
thing lacking was the carpet which was
usually laid from the station to the waiting
conveyance on return trips of the President
or upon visits of foreign potentates.

The Senator led the way, train passen-
gers trooping along, carrying their bags
and bundles. It had been an event for
them to be on the same train with the
Green Man, his first train trip incidentally,
since he had been on earth.

THE GREEN MAN

125

There was room in this spacious car for
all of Numar's party, which was a trifle
disappointing to Betty.

"If it's going to be too crowded, Sen-
ator," she said, "I wouldn't mind sitting
on your lap."

Senator Hoolihan hastened to decline.
"I think that honor," he said, "should be
reserved alone for the Mayor of New York
City!"

"Oh, that's so nice of you to say," said
Betty. "But I wouldn't want anyone to
think I'm being partisan . . . My, Senator,
I just love that carnation in your button
hole! " She plumped herself down between
the Senator and Numar in the back seat,
linking her arm with his. Then she gazed
about as the limousine started off, leaving
a curious throng behind.

"Well, look at that!" she exclaimed.
"What's that big building over there with
the dome?"

"That's the United States Capitol," said
Senator Hoolihan.

"Oh," said Betty, "Of course! You'll
have to excuse me, Senator. This is the
first time I've ever been to Washington!"

The Senator looked at her oddly.

"My husband and I haven't been here,
either," said Mrs. Bailey. "Do you sup-
pose we could see Lincoln's Memorial?"

"If she mentions the Washington Monu-
ment, IH kill her!" whispered Sid to
Sam.

"Well," said Senator Hoolihan. "Mr.
Numar doesn't have to speak to Congress
until two this afternoon. His appointment
with the President is at three. After you
people have checked in at the hotel, we
might have a few hours for sight-seeing."

"Here it comes!" said Sam.

"Oh, Senator!" said Betty, putting her
blonde head against his shoulder. Her
hair tickled his chin — but he liked it.
"That's wonderful! To think of you
being our guide!"

"She's got him!" said Sam. "We're in
for it now!

f\NE of the great, sublime and slightly
ridiculous traditions of the United
States of America is that every boy born
in this country has a chance to be Presi-
dent. Moreover, since the advent of
woman suffrage, theoretically at least, every
girl born in this country has a chance to
be President.

But, if you are a boy or a girl, don't
count on it. Get your family to settle for

a visit to Washington rather than the
Presidency. Most fathers and mothers
plan such a trip at some time in their
lives, for themselves and their children,
anyway. Many of them feel it is a duty
they owe their offspring, as though the
journey to their nation's capital would, in
itself, inspire them to become better
American citizens. In truth and in fact,
it should, particularly if youngsters are
taken to Washington during what their
parents choose to call their "impression-
able years."

Professor and Mrs. Bailey had no off-
spring to bring to this national shrine.
But, they had Betty! She was somebody's
offspring so it amounted to one and the
same thing. However, Betty was slightly
past the so-called "impressionable age"
and had arrived at the time in her life
when she was more interested in impress-
ing others. The historic significance of
Washington was largely lost upon her. She
remembered that George had once cut
down a cherry tree and that Honest Abe
Lincoln had once walked an interminable
distance to pay back six cents in change.
These were great traits of character in our
Presidents which should be revered for all
time, but Betty had no ambition to be
President. She did, howover, have her
heart set upon being seen and photographed
with the people in Washington who
counted, including the President!

The Professor and Mrs. Bailey were
like two kids themselves. It had been a
life-long desire of them both to see the
Capitol of their country, these picturesque
and historic spots of which they had read
so much, and actually to meet some of
the great minds, such as Senator Alfred
B. Hoolihan, who were integral parts of
the government. To find themselves
really embarking on a personally superin-
tended sight-seeing tour with the Senator,
in company, of course, with Numar and
the other members of their party, was a
life's dream come true.

"If I just live through today," Mrs.
Bailey managed to say, aside, to her hus-
band, "I can die happy."

"Nellie," said the Professor. "Some-
times your stamina astounds me!"

Senator Hoolihan, who had Betty by
his side, was talking: "I think, Mr. Numar,
one of the first places you might be inter-
ested in seeing is the Bureau of Engraving
and Printing. That's where our paper
money, government bonds, postage and

126

AMAZING STORIES

revenue stamps are printed." j

"Oh, yes," said Numar.

"My," said Betty, "I'd like to see that!
Is it true, Senator, with all the billions it
takes to run this government, that you can
print money faster than we can spend it?"

"We have been able to, so far," said
the Senator.

"My goodness! If there ever came a
time when you couldn't," said Betty, "what
would we do then?"

"I would stop running for office," said
the Senator. "And run for the country!"

'T'HEIR car was now pulling up beside
■ the buildings of the United States
Mint. It was followed by three other cars
filled with the ever-trailing reporters and
photographers. As they went into the main
entrance, one of the reporters came rush-
ing up.

"Senator!" he called. "I want to get
an exclusive for my paper! A picture of
you pointing to a big pile of paper money,
just off the press, and telling Mr. Numar
about it. I want to title my picture:
'Green Man Looks at Green Backs!' . . .
Is that okay?"

Senator Hoolihan turned to Numar. "It's
all right with me. Mr. Numar, do you
have any objection?"

"None at all," said Numar, quietly.

"That's swell," said the camera man.
Then, pleadingly: "But, listen, Mr. Numar
— please don't pull that disappearing trick!
My boss says if I don't come back with
your mug on this piece of celluloid, that
I'm a dead pigeon!"

Numar smiled and shook his head. "I'm
sorry about the dead pigeon," he said.

The other newsmen laughed.

Mr. Alex and Mr. Schwartz brought up
the rear as the party filed into the Mint.

"I don't like to look at money that isn't
mine," said Sid. "It makes me think of
my income tax!"

"I don't like to see money made," said
Sam, "I'm afraid it might tempt me to
become a counterfeiter!"

Many of the departments were heavily
caged in so that visitors could not get
near the freshly printed stacks of paper
money and government bonds. Numar and
his party, led by Senator Hoolihan, walked
over runways, looking down at the differ-
ent processes in operation. In one depart-
ment, a row of middle-aged women, white
and colored, with rubber thimbles on their
thumbs, were seated at long tables counting

:at piles of uncut paper money.

"You are gazing upon millions and mil-
lions of dollars," said the Senator.

"Fancy that!" said Mrs. Bailey. "Gra-
cious! I should think those women, after
doing that all day, would get so sick of
money they wouldn't want to touch it when
they got home!"

"I'd like to try it once!" said Sam.

Through arrangement with an official at
the Mint, Numar and Senator Hoolihan
were taken behind locked doors and pho-
tographed standing between great mounds
of paper money.

"You know, of course," said the Senator
to Numar, "that the United States is the
richest country in the world?"

"Yes," said Numar, soberly. "I know
that."

"This is a tribute to the great industry
of our people," said the Senator, as he
saw that the reporters were making notes.

"Your people," said Numar, "all work
for money?"

"Why, yes," said the Senator, with a
half laugh. "Naturally!"

"We have no money on our planet,"
said Numar.

Senator Hoolihan gave him a startled
look. "No money!" he said. "Well, what
incentive do your people have for living?"

Numar smiled. "Pursuit of the truth,"
he said.

"Your planet must be a strange place,"
said the Senator.

' I "'HE next important stop on this per-
sonally conducted tour of Washington
was made at the Lincoln Memorial, which
stands at the upper end of Potomac Park.
There is perhaps no more beautiful struc-
ture in the world today, for — out of ordi-
narily cold and austere marble — Man has
wrought a warm and living tribute to
America's Great Emancipator.

You climb the steps to the Memorial
and gaze up into the kindly, yet sorrowing
stone face of this man, who sits in his
chair and looks, with his deep-set, under-
standing eyes, into your very soul.

Here, all the cheap sounds of self-seek-
ing politicians are swallowed up into the
nothingness which they are. Here, even
the most shallow American can be turned
from a heart of stone. Here, beside the
still banks of the silent Potomac, the wa-
ters of American life run deep. Here, you
bring as your offering to lay at the feet
of Abraham Lincoln, what you really are.

THE GREEN MAN

127

And here, on this bright morning in the
Washington, D. C. of today, Senator Alfred
B. Hoolihan brought this visitor from an-
other planet, and his party.

Professor Bailey put fumbling fingers
to his head and removed his hat. There
was a mist across his eyes. Mrs. Bailey
reached out her hand and placed it within
his. They stood like two small school
children at the base of the great monument
and looked up into Lincoln's face.

Standing somewhat apart from them was
Senator Hoolihan, his high top hat in hand.
On one side of him was Betty and on the
other, Numar. Behind them were Mr. Alex
and Mr. Schwartz, foremost in a fringe of
other sight-seers and the inevitable re-
porters and camera men.

"Jeez I" said Sam, respectfully. "This '
kind of gets you, don't it?"

"Yeah," said Sid. "I've been in Wash-
ington half a dozen times on picture busi-
ness, but I've never run out here. This is
real competition for the movies!"

"I guess Lincoln was a greater man than
I thought he was," said Betty.

"He was one of the great souls born on
your planet," said Numar.

"I'm glad to hear you say that," said
Senator Hoolihan, a gleam of pride in his
eyes. "He was our first Republican Presi-
dent!"

Numar's dark eyes searched the Sena-
tor. "In your opinion, did that make him
a great soul?" he asked.

"N-no," said Senator Hoolihan, de-
fensively. "But I dare say — it helped!"

The moment of reverence was broken
by the reporters and camera men who must
carry to their insatiable public the small-
est thought and action of every person in
the news.

Senator Hoolihan was quite conscious
of the possible political significance of his
pilgrimage to the Lincoln Memorial with
Numar. This gave him a chance to pledge
anew his loyalty to the lofty ideals set
down by this greatest of all Republicans.
Whenever any earnest Senator or Congress-
man or high government official felt the
need of spiritual replenishing, it was always
good Emily Post for him to visit some such
national shrine and there consecrate him-
self, once more, to the principles of true
freedom. The memory of the great Amer-
ican public, thank God, was short. You
could promise it something one week and
take it back the next, and it would forget
and forgive you. Great political machines

had been founded upon this vulnerable
quirk in human nature.

"Would you care to make a statement,
Senator?" asked one of the reporters.

Senator Hoolihan cleared his throat
and looked up at Lincoln. "I'd like to say,"
he began, "that I consider this one of the
most auspicious moments of my life/ To be
here, present, with a distinguished visitor,
not from another land but from another
planet, paying homage to the memory of
a man whom Mr. Numar, himself," with
a patronizing gesture toward the green-
visaged figure at his side, "has declared
to be one of the greatest souls ever born
upon this earth!"

Senator Hoolihan bowed his head, rev-
erently.

The camera shutters clicked and pencils
flew.

"Now, Mr. Numar, would you like to say
something?" asked the news men.

"Senator Hoolihan has spoken for me,"
said Numar.

Professor and Mrs. Bailey had wandered
off to read some of Lincoln's great and
historic utterances cut eternally into the
marble walls. They spoke them, under
their breaths, in chorus.

"This has been worth the entire trip,"
said the Professor. "I guess, Nellie, I've
been looking out, for too many years, upon
the stars. It is good to come back to
earth and to find what is contained in the
soil of our own country."

The Professor felt the light touch of a
hand upon his shoulder. Numar had dis-
engaged himself from the press and the
publicity seekers.

"Perhaps, Professor," he said, in a
quiet voice. "You can understand now,
why I chose you as my host on this
planet."

IT WAS not a long journey by motor to
Mount Vernon. This trip had been
made scores of times by Senator Hoolihan
in company of various visiting notables
and important people from his home state
who had to be shown the sights. A poli-
tician must always keep on good terms with
his constituents. Any real or fancied
slight could easily cost him the election.
But a Senator was always safe in taking
his guests to the tombs of the nation's
great, because dead men do not talk. And,
since George Washington never was known
to have told a lie, it was always good to
associate one's self with his rame.

128

AMAZING STORIES

The small family vault containing his
mortal remains was located on a hillside
at Mount Vernon, overlooking the Potomac
River. The view from this spot must have
been enjoyed by Washington in life as it
was now enjoyed by all fellow Americans
who visited this hallowed place and were
moved by its serenity. Again, there was
a peace and simplicity not found in the
streets and byways of this now rushing
and confused world.

"This man was the first President of the
United States and the Father of his coun-
try," said Senator Hoolihan. "He didn't
believe in foreign alliances."

As a former isolationist, Senator Hooli-
han hoped that this comment would be
heard by the reporters who would realize
that he had not been the originator of this
policy, only a temporary advocate.

"Of course," he continued, "Had Wash-
ington been living today," and here he put
words in the great man's mouth, "I have
no doubt that he would have recognized the
economic and spiritual necessity of a union,
not only of states,* but of nations!"

"Can we quote you on that?" asked a
reporter.

"By all means! " said the Senator.

Professor and Mrs. Bailey were -again off
by themselves.

"You know, Nellie," he said, simply. "I'd
like to be buried in a place like this."

"Ssssh!" said Mrs. Bailey, looking about
self-consciously. "William, don't be sacre-
ligious!"

Betty was standing, looking through the
iron work, at the crypts.

"Lincoln got all the best of it! " she said.

Numar had made no comment but now
he was prodded by newsmen. "Do you
have something to say?" they queried.

"I should like to ask the Senator a ques-
tion," said Numar.

Senator Hoolihan beamed and bowed. "I
should consider it an honor," he said.

"Could you tell me," requested Numar,
"Do you humans revere any of your living
men and erect monuments to them?"

Senator Hoolihan drew in his breath.
"Why— why, no," he said. "Why should
we? . . . It's too risky. They're apt to do
something, any day, to undo what they've
done!"

"I see," said Numar. "Then it is pos-
sibly just as well that Washington died be-
fore his glory was dimmed and Lincoln was
assassinated?"

Senator Hoolihan laughed, uncomfort-
ably. "I guess we've seen all there is to see
here," he said.

' I A HE Congress of the United States is a
mighty body of important little men.
The people of the forty-eight states have
elected these men to represent their sacred
rights and liberties in the government in
Washington. In principle, if not always in
fact, these elected representatives are
known as public servants. Since so few
Americans have ever read the Constitution
of the United States or its Bill of Rights, it
is just possible that an equally small num-
ber know how many Senators and Repre-
sentatives there are in the halls of Congress.
For the record then, let it be said there are
ninety-six members in the Senate and a
total of four hundred and thirty-five Repre-
sentatives in the House.

On rare occasions, when the President of
the United States wishes to address both
houses at the same time, on some matter
of great national urgency, or when some
foreign visitor of sufficient political import
should be paid tribute, these two bodies
foregather in the House and pretend that
they are fraternizing with each other. Actu-
ally, as every child should know, the Senate
and the House are supposed to provide a
legislative checkmate, one upon the other.
What one body originates in the way of a
bill, the other body either alters, tables or
annihilates. This is Democracy in action.

But, this afternoon at two p.m. all regu-
lar business was being suspended. The
Representatives, because they belonged to
the biggest chamber, were once again play-
ing host to the Senators. Not only that, but
almost every notable in Washington, espe-
cially those on good terms with the admini-
stration, had crowded into the House to see
and to hear this new man of the hour, this
Green Man from outer space, this being
from another planet, this stealer of all news-
paper headlines — Numar!

Five choice seats had been reserved on
the aisle steps in the gallery for the Profes-
sor, Mrs. Bailey, Betty, Mr. Alex and Mr.
Schwartz. The atmosphere was electric with
excitement. Numar and the man who was
to present him, Senator Alfred B. Hoolihan,
had not yet appeared on the floor. Com-
ments could be heard on all sides.

"It's utterly fantastic, taking up our time
with a session like this! "

"Yes, that throws my state relief bill over

THE GREEN MAN

129

till tomorrow — and I wanted to get away
for a week's vacation ! "

"I hate Senator Hoolihan's guts, any-
way I He's not fooling anybody. He's
feathering his own nest by making this tie-
up!"

"Well, if this Numar's really from an-
other planet, since he won't let himself be
photographed, I'd like to see what he looks

like!"

"One thing sure — he can't be running for
office or he'd let them take his picture! "

"This Green Man's certainly getting a
terrific press. There must be something to
him!"

"I'm an amateur astronomer myself. If
Professor Bailey says he's genuine, that's
good enough for me! "

Being within earshot of these diverse
commentaries, Mrs. Bailey nudged her hus-
band. "Did you hear that last remark?"
she asked. "William, your opinion does
count for something in this country! "

"Apparently!" said the Professor, in
pleased surprise.

"I'd like to have the concessions in a
place like this!" said Sam. "Can you ima-
gine the soft drinks and crackerjack you
could sell?"

"Don't forget the hotdogs!" said Sid.

"I hope they begin on time," said Betty,
fidgeting. "So we won't be late for our ap-
pointment with the President."

"Betty!" scolded Mrs. Bailey. "Not so
loud! You don't know whether you're go-
ing to see the President or not."

Betty looked wise but said nothing.

IN the ante-room behind the rostrum on
which was the Speaker's chair and desk,
were a group of noted government officials.
In addition to the Speaker of the House,
himself, there was the Vice-President of the
United States. These two gentlemen, in
company with Senator Alfred B. Hoolihan,
were having a brief discourse with Numar.

"You say you have no democracy on
your planet?" the Vice-President was
asking.

"Not what you would call a 'democra-
cy'," Numar answered. "Our people are
individually self-governing."

"I see," said the Speaker of the House,
with a blank look on his face.

"That sounds rather advanced," said the
Vice-President.

"It is," admitted Numar. "We have only
enjoyed this state of development for the

past ten million years."

Senator Hoolihan poked a jocular finger
at the Vice-President. "I guess there'd be
no place for us on his planet," he said.

Numar smiled. "Probably not," he said.
"Our people are their own representatives."

The Speaker of the House looked at the
clock on the wall.

"Well," he said, "it's time we were enter-
ing the Chamber." Then, a bit uneasily, "I
hope, Mr. Numar, what you are going to
say will not be too radical for this body. It
should be obvious to you that any such
individual government as you have on your
planet would bring chaos and anarchy
here."

"That I well know," said Numar.

A hush came over all members and visi-
tors in the House as the Speaker and Vice-
President entered with Senator Hoolihan
and the man from another planet, follow-
ing. Everyone stood as though by common
consent, and began applauding. Thanks to
the press of the country and his two radio
broadcasts, Numar was already well known
to his audience.

The Vice-President seated himself in a
chair to the left of the Speaker's desk, while
Numar sat on his right. Senator Hoolihan
remained standing beside the Speaker who
raised his hand for silence. There was the
usual shuffling and shifting of feet and
chairs as everyone sat down.

The Green Man, of course, was the
cynosure of all eyes. He remained perfectly
composed and looked quietly about at the
waving sea of faces.

"Members of the Senate and of the
House of Representatives," began the
Speaker. "We have come together today,
in joint body assembled, for the purpose of
welcoming to this country, yea — even to
our planet, this distinguished visitor from a
remote region in space. It is my considered
pleasure to present the illustrious Senator
Alfred B. Hoolihan, who will introduce to
you our guest of honor." He turned and
nodded. "Senator Hoolihan!"

NUMAR'S Washington host stepped to
the front of the rostrum as photog-
raphers again went to work. He was
greeted with polite applause, with most eyes
still fixed upon the Green Man.

"Never before," commenced Senator
Hoolihan, in tones of stentorian grandeur,
which he felt befitting the occasion, "in the
long, tortuous history of life on this planet,

130

AMAZING STORIES

has there ever occurred a phenomenon of
this magnitude. Never before, has mankind
been given such cause to pause and con-
sider the immensity of space and the pos-
sible fact that our earth is not alone the only
inhabited sphere in this great and grand
universe. Never before, either in the time
of Washington or of Lincoln, have the peo-
ple of this country and of the world been
at such a critical turning of the ways!

"It's no idle figure of speech to say to
you, my fellow colleagues in the Senate and
in the House, that we are at the crossroads!
Just as we now are compelled by the pres-
ence on this earth of the Man From An-
other Planet, to look at the stars — so, we
are also compelled to look beyond our shores
to the peoples of other lands! Yes, my
friends — to realize, in the changing tides of
men, that isolationism is a thing of the past
— that the Brotherhood of Nations is at
hand — and, in the not too distant future,
God willing, the Brotherhood of Planets!"

This was the point that Senator Hoolihan
had depended upon for applause and he got
it. The Senators and Representatives
looked a bit bewildered but they knew
when to take a cue. They knew, also, that
Senator Hoolihan was putting on an exhi-
bition of acrobatics and, insofar as his
former isolationist attitude was concerned,
he was doing a backward somersalt. This
occasioned a burst of cheers which grew
into a small ovation.

"He reminds me slightly of William Jen-
nings Bryan," said Professor Bailey to his
wife. "His oratory, I mean."

"And now," Senator Hoolihan was say-
ing, in a voice which trembled and shook
with emotion. "It is my unbounded pleas-
ure, and honor, and privilege to present to
you, for the first time on this earth, a man
who has come from his home planet Tala-
maya, through interstellar space, for the
express purpose of visiting us here. As you
all know, I have taken it upon myself, as a
Senator from that greatest of all states . . .
I need not mention it by name . . ., to invite
Mr. Numar to Washington that he may ad-
dress this august body ... and later meet
our noble Commander-in-Chief and Presi-
dent . . . !"

At mention of the President, there was
resounding applause. This was another
point in his introductory speech which
Senator Hoolihan had marked in advance
for the taking of a deep breath.

"And so," he said, his voice reaching a

crescendo of volume and feeling. "And so,"
he repeated for emphasis, "without further
ado, I now give to you the most unusual
personage who has ever set foot inside this
United States Capitol building since the
day it was erected. Members of the House,
Senate, Friends, Visitors and Guests — I
present to you the honorable, the most
austere, and the most mysterious Mr
Numar!"

Senator Hoolihan had done himself
proud. As Numar stood up and advanced
to the front of the rostrum, the walls of the
House all but came down. Everyone was on
his feet, cheering and hand-clapping. Not
even Winston Churchill or Madame Chiang
Kai-Shek had received such a greeting!
Senator Hoolihan shook Numar's hand and
held it until the photographers had fin-
ished shooting.

"I've never heard anything like this! " he
said, in Numar's ear. "Go to it! The floor
is yours!"

The Senator then tiptoed extravagantly
back to his seat beside the Vice-President.

HPHE shouts and the plaudits died away
like the sound of a pounding sea which
had been instantly hushed. The white-
robed figure of the Green Man, Numar,
now, seemed to fill the Chamber. He stood,
unspeaking, looking smilingly out upon his
now breathless observers. Half minute must
have passed and the tension was as taut as
a violin string about to snap.

"Why doesn't he say something!" whis-
pered Sam. "I can't stand this much
longer!"

"Maybe he's forgot how to speak En-
glish!" said Sid.

The figure of Numar moved — and took
a step forward.

"I bring you greetings," said Numar
"not only from the beings on my planet
but from the various types of creatures on
at least a thousand inhabited planets be-
tween my world, Talamaya, and your
own."

There were gasps of surprise throughout
the House which, breaking through the
silence, came like pistol shots.

"You human creatures, here," Numar
continued, "have probably been so con-
cerned with your own affairs, that you have
given little or no serious thought to the pos-
sibility of any other planet being in-
habited. Would it interest you to know
that the Universe is filled with millions of

THE GREEN MAN

131

inhabited planets?"

There were more gasps, many of them on
the borderline of incredulity.

"No," smiled Numar, "not planets neces-
sarily populated with Democrats or Re-
publicans, such as yourselves, nor even by
human creatures — but forms of higher in-
telligence entirely unfamiliar to you here
. . ." He was speaking easily and with a
quiet conviction and charm which was cap-
tivating. "Many of these planets have
existed billions of years longer than your
earth. Partially because of this, the
creatures on them have been enabled to
reach a much higher state of evolution.
They have developed instruments far be-
yond the capacity of your telescopes and
radio which have made it possible for them
to view your struggles here and to benefit,
in their way, from your experiences. That
is how I, myself, first became acquainted
with you peoples of earth.

"May I say to you, now, that we are all
caught up in a great cosmic destiny to-
gether and, as your own Abraham Lincoln
has said — if I may choose to apply some
of his words in the universal sense — all
creatures on all planets, must proceed 'with
malice toward none, with charity for all,
with firmness in the right as God gives us to
see the right. Let us strive on to finish
the work we are in ... to do all which may
achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace
among ourselves,' and — in the great far dis-
tant ultimate, between the creatures on all
planets, throughout this mighty uni-
verse . . . !"

There was a moment of tremendous
silence following Numar's unusual para-
phrasing ( of Lincoln's immortal words. It
was as though he had softly pounded the
brain mass within each cranial cavity. His
observers looked at one another with ex-
pressions of awe, disbelief and faint glim-
merings of recognition. The impact of his
remarks was due to be felt for days by
many present, if not for a life-time.

"I'll never be the same again," one Rep-
resentative was heard to whisper.

"I don't get it!" said another.

But silence must give way to sound, and
whether his words had been comprehended
or not, the earnestness and poise and sin-
cerity of Numar could not be doubted. A
stunned audience gave him sober and re-
spectful applause as he left the Chamber
followed by an obviously dazed Vice-Presi-
dent who sheepishly shrugged his shoulders

at the gallery, as much as to say, "You and
me both! I don't get it, either! "

A T about the time when Numar was de-
livering his "message" to Congress, a
young flight lieutenant was picking up his
message from Betty.

"Good gosh!" he exclaimed, as he read
it. "The White House! . . . the President
. . . ! How does she do it?"

Lieutenant Harry Hopper rushed out of
the Western Union office and hailed a taxi.
At last he was getting somewhere. Maybe
there was some method in Betty's madness
after all. Any girl who could be staying at
the White House! "Guess maybe I'd
better go a little slow about jumping on
her," Harry decided. He sauntered through
the door of the White House with the air
of a man who has an appointment. He was
stopped inside by a kindly, white-haired
gentleman with badge and bulging muscles.

"Whom did you want to see?" inquired
the man.

"Well, according to this wire," said
Harry, "I've got to check with the Presi-
dent."

He showed the telegram to the official
waylayer of all unofficial business.

" 'Am stopping at White House,' " read
the man. "Get in touch with me through
the President'." The official looked ques-
tioningly at Harry. "Who is this 'Betty'
person?' '

"Her name's Miss Betty Bracken. The
President will know," said Harry.

"The President is very busy now," said
the official. "Maybe I can locate Miss
Bracken for you. Does she work here?"

"No, she's visiting here," said Harry.

"Just a moment," said the official. He
disappeared and Harry paced about in
the reception room of the White House.

The official was gone about ten minutes
and returned.

"There's no Miss Bracken here," he re-
ported.

"But why would she wire me like this
if she's not here?" demanded Harry.

"I can't answer that," said the official
"I've checked with the President's secre-
tary. She's never even heard her name,
and it's not in the President's personal
appointment book."

Harry was momentarily floored. "That's
funny," he said. "If you don't mind, I'll
just stick around here for awhile. Maybe
she'll turn up."

132

AMAZING STORIES

"Sure," said the official, agreeably.
"Why don't you get yourself a visitor's
pass and go through the White House
while you're waiting?"

"That's a good idea," said Harry. "I
think I will!"

T^OLLOWING Numar's address to Con-
* gress, Professor and Mrs. Bailey, with
Betty, Mr. Alex and Mr. Schwartz met
the Senator and Numar by pre-arrange-
ment, at a side entrance to the floor of
the House. It was the Senator's intention
to drop them off in his car at the May-
flower Hotel while he continued on to the
White House with- his inter-planetary visi-
tor for the appointment with the President.
But they had no more than reached the
door of the limousine, with reporters, pho-
tographers and an excited crowd following
them, when Betty began her button-holing
campaign.

"Oh, Senator!" she exclaimed. "I just
can't wait to tell you! That was the
most magnificent speech I ever heard! I
was never so thrilled in my life! I don't
think I'll ever be that thrilled when you
introduce me to the President!"

Senator Hoolihan had helped Mrs.
Bailey into the car and was waiting for
Betty to follow, but she was holding up
the procession. Numar, for his protection,
had been slipped in the limousine first.

"I'm sorry, Miss Bracken," he said, "but
the President ... I"

"It's too bad your speech wasn't broad-
cast," said Betty. "I'm sure he'd
have loved it!"

"We must hurry or we'll be late to our
appointment," said the Senator, trying to
push her in the car.

"Oh, Senator!" cried Betty. "When I
think of your introducing me to the Presi-
dent, I could just hug you!"

She suited the action to the word and
a camera man nearby shouted, "Hey!
That's a pip! Do that again, will you,
Babe? Give the Senator a smacker on
the cheek!"

Betty was only too willing to take direc-
tion. She couldn't have responded better
had she had a movie director.

"My God, how that girl can act!" said
Sid. "I'm beginning to think I've got
something there!"

"What's Mrs. Bailey good for?" moaned
Sam. "She kisses somebody and nobody
cares!"

The Senator had never encountered this

sore of a campaign before. With cameras
being aimed at him and with his remem-
brance of Mayor LaGuardia's experience
with this impetuous young thing, he had
to do something and do it quick!

"All right!" he hissed in her ear. "You're
meeting the President. Now, behave your-
self! I can't afford to be kissed in public! "

"Oh, Senator Hoolihan!" exclaimed
Betty, shaking her finger at him as she
got in the car, "What you just said!"

The Senator said even worse things
under his breath.

For some strange reason, the Senator's
hired limousine never stopped at the May-
flower Hotel at all. It proceeded directly
to the White House with all on board, to
keep Numar's and Senator Hoolihan's ap-
pointment with the President.

LIEUTENANT HARRY HOPPER had
become so interested in viewing the
President's trophy room, in company with
other gaping-mouthed sight-seers, that he
had momentarily forgotten his cross-coun-
try quest of Betty. As he emerged into
the hall, with some elderly school teachers
from Minnesota who had attached them-
selves lovingly to him, he saw what at
first glance appeared to be another sight-
seeing group, hurrying past. However,
this small party was possessed of an escort
of White House police who had brought
them in a special entrance. There was a
white-robed figure in their midst and it
was the elderly school teachers who first
observed: "Why, for mercy's sake! There's
the Green Man!"

By this time Harry had caught sight of
a blonde in red, clinging to the arm of a
tall, pompous-appearing man, who carried
a high stiff hat.

"Betty!" Harry shouted, and left his
school teacher acquaintances without an
adieu.

They looked after him in blank amaze-
ment.

"Well, I suppose that's what we've got
to expect at our age," one of them said to
the other.

Numar and his party were already turn-
ing the corridor as Harry gave chase. Betty,
hearing her name called, glanced back-
ward, saw Harry, and waved.

"Hello, Harry! " she called. "I can't see
you now. I'm going to see the President!"

A White House guard blocked Harry's
mad dash after her.

"Where do you think you're going?" he

THE GREEN MAN

133

said.

"I belong to that party!" said Harry.
"Let me go!"

"I don't think you do," said the guard.
"You'd better come with me."

"I'll prove it to you," said Harry, and
produced a crumpled telegram. "Read
this!"

The guard looked at it. "Who's Betty?"
he asked.

"That girl I was calling to," Harry ex-
plained.

"That may be," said the guard, skep-
tically. "But that still doesn't mean you've
got an appointment with the President.
You come with me to the reception 'room
while I check on this."

HPHERE was a momentary delay at the
door of the President's private office
as a somewhat flustered Senator Hoolihan
offered apologies, explanations and en-
treaties to the President's secretary. Could
he be allowed, as a special favor, to present
all the members of Numar's party? The
secretary stepped to the door and looked
the group over. She did not act too im-
pressed by the sight, even when Betty
smiled and waved at her.

"IH see what I can do," she said, and
disappeared.

"Something tells me this is going to be
the experience of my life!" said Betty.

"I hope this doesn't ruin my political
career!" said the Senator.

"Is my hair on straight?" asked Sam of
Sid. "Thank God, I at least voted for the
guy!"

"What do you say to the President?"
Sid wanted to know.

"Ask him if he's going to run for another
term," said Sam.

Professor and Mrs. Bailey were very
solemn and plainly nervous.

"Betty's got us this faf," said the Pro-
fessor, "but I still can't believe we're ac-
tually going to meet him!"

The secretary reappeared at the door.
She was smiling. "The President will see
you now," she said.

As Numar's party entered the President's
office, in the executive wing of the White
House, a young flying officer was brought
into the reception room by a guard. The
guard caught the secretary's attention.

"You sit here," he said to the soldier,
indicating a chair. "I'D find out about
this." He crossed to the door and spoke
to the secretary in a low tone. "That army

pilot, there, claims he should have gone
in with that party to see the President,"
said the guard. "Would you know any-
thing about it?"

"No," said the secretary. "But there
is an army pilot due to see the President
this afternoon. I'll check up on his calen-
dar as soon as this appointment is over.
He's probably the one.

"Thanks," said the guard, and turned
back to an expectant Harry. "Just sit
tight," he advised. "We'll have you
straightened out in just a few minutes."

"That's swell!" said Harry, drawing a
sigh of relief. "If you only knew, Mister,
what I've been through!"

"Yeah, it's tough trying to see the
President these days," said the guard.
"You've got to have influence!"

CENATOR HOOLIHAN carried off the
^ introductions of the different members
of his party in his usual exemplary man-
ner. Meeting and introducing people were
two of the most important requisites to
the making of a successful politician.

The President was seated at his desk
which, in addition to state papers, con-
tained an assorted collection of little dog
figures in bronze.

"Oh, aren't these cute!" exclaimed
Betty. She was standing with the party
in front of the President's desk and im-
pulsively picked up one of the bronze
miniatures. "Why, Mr. President, I have
this dog's very mate at home!"

"Indeed!" said the President, amused.
"I wondered why that poor fellow had
such a lonely look. Please take him with
you!"

"Why, Mr. President!" protested Betty,
with the Professor stepping on one foot
and Mrs. Bailey, the other. "I hope you
don't think I— ouch . . . !"

The President divined what was going
on and laughed. "That dog appears to
have bitten you," he said. Then, turning
to his distinguished visitor, "Mr. Numar,
I have been greatly interested in you since
your reported arrival on the planet. I am
sorry I was unable to hear you in your
talk before Congress. Word has already
reached me, however, that your remarks
have caused quite a stir."

Numar was standing at the edge of the
desk nearest the President, with Senator
Hoolihan by his side.

"What I said today was relatively unim-
portant," he quietly declared. "I hope,

AMAZING STORIES

Mr. President, that you will be able to
hear me when I speak from Chicago to-
morrow afternoon."

The President chuckled. "Do I have to
listen to the first half of the Notre Dame-
University of Chicago football game in or-
der to hear you?" he asked. "I'm a busy
man!"

Numar smiled. "Perhaps not," he said,
revealing his own sense of humor. "Even
so, they seem to be the most popular teams
in the country. I understand Soldiers
Field is entirely sold out for this game —
and they expect the biggest crowd in
history! "

"All right," laughed the President. "You
win! . . . I'll be listening in!"

"/"VUT this way, please," said the Presi-
dent's secretary, with the interview
over. She indicated a private exit through
a side corridor away from the main recep-
tion room. Numar's party immediately
filed out, as directed. It was met by four
solid looking citizens, one of whom stopped
Numar. He was a stout, dark-eyed,
crinkly haired man.

"My name's J. Edgar Hoover," he said.
"Will you and your party come with me?"

Numar looked questioningly at Senator
Hoolihan who seemed on the verge of an
apoplectic stroke.

"Mr. Hoover," exclaimed the Senator.
"Is something wrong? Have you got some-
thing on this man? Great heavens! Don't
tell me he's a fake!"

Mr. Hoover's face was a mask. "I want
his fingerprints," he said.

Senator Hoolihan glanced apprehensively
at Chief G Man Hoover's strong arm trio
of plain clothes men. "We'll go peace-
fully, of course," he said. "But if Mr.
Numar's going to be exposed, for God's
sake — don't involve me!"

"Oh!" cried Betty. "What's the mat-
ter? We're not arrested, are we?"

Mrs. Bailey took her husband's arm,
protectingly.

"Mr. Hoover," she said, in a voice which
quavered. "I warned Professor Bailey at
the very start but it seems like this man
had him hypnotized. If he should turn
out to be a crook, I hope things won't go
too hard with my husband. He's really
been an innocent, trusting victim!"

"I'm in the clear," said Mr. Alex. "I'm
just representing Miss Bracken here—
for M.G.M."

"Me, too," said Mr. Schwartz, "I mean
— I'm a Warner Brothers man. I haven't
had anything to do with Mr. Numar!"

The Green Man, under apparent indict-
ment from members of his party, had eyed
them each in turn. He was now looking
at Professor Bailey.

"You can do what you want, Mr. Hoo-
ver," said the Professor, with spirit, "But
I say, Mr. Numar is who he says he is —
and I'd like to see you disprove it! "

"Why, William! " said Mrs. Bailey.

"Come on!" said Betty, taking a de-
flated Senator Hoolihan by the arm. "I've
been wanting to see how the F.B.I works,
anyway!"

The Senator emitted a groan which came
from the very bottom of his spats.

"Mr. Hoover," he pleaded. "I have my
car outside. May I save Mr. Numar and
his party the public disgrace of going with
you? I promise to deliver them all to
your headquarters."

Chief Edgar Hoover nodded and ges-
tured to his men.

"Very well," he said. "Let them go
ahead, men. We'll follow."

A sober group of people, led by Senator
Alfred B. Hoolihan, who now looked like
the dead stick of a spent skyrocket, passed
out the side door of the White House, draw-
ing many curious glances and wondering
comments.

ALL right, sir!" said the President's
secretary, motioning to the young
flying officer who had been waiting impa-
tiently in the reception room, "the Presi-
dent will see you now."

•Harry leaped to his feet and hurried to
the door. What he saw caused him to stop
and stare. The Chief Executive was seated
at his desk with several newsreel cameras
pointed at him. There were a number of
official looking gentlemen standing by.

"But where's Betty . . . ?" said Harry,
impulsively, looking around. "I don't
understand . . . ?"

"Please, hurry!" urged the secretary,
"Don't keep the President waiting! He's
half an hour late with his appointments
now!"

Harry advanced toward the President's
desk, uncertainly. One of the men in front
of him was a high ranking officer in the
army. He thought he had better salute, so
he did. The salute was returned and the
officer smiled and said: "At ease, Lieuten-

THE GREEN MAN

135

ant. A man of your heroism shouldn't be
nervous on an occasion like this!"

"But, I . . . !" said Harry. "There must
be . . . !"

"Mr. President," said the high ranking
officer, "this is ... P

"Of course!" beamed the President, "the
whole country knows him!" He reached
across the desk and extended his hand.
"Charmed to meet you, Lieutenant!"

Harry, eyes popping, clicked his heels
together, saluted once more, and then shook
hands with the President. The newsreel
cameras began to grind.

"Step around here, beside the President,"
directed the military gentleman, placing a
kindly hand on Harry's shoulder.

"But I came here ..." Harry started to
say.

He was pushed in front of the President
who was now standing, an official document
of some sort in his hands.

" 'For heroic and undaunted service far
beyond the call of duty,' " the Chief Execu-
tive was reading, " 'Lieutenant Peter
Bauer . . . ' "

"But, Mr. President ... 1" broke in
Harry, "I'm not ... !"

"Keep still!" said the military officer,
jabbing him in the back.

" '. . . in the attack upon the Jap island
of Saipan,' the President was continuing,
'not only strafed heavily armed beaches
at great risk of being shot down but blew
up several large ammunition dumps in the
operation. On preparing to leave the scene,
while attempting to gain altitude, Lieute-
nant Bauer . . .' "

Harry was wet with perspiration. "But
Mr. President ... !" he said, again.

"Shut up!" hissed a voice in his ear.

" '. . . was attacked,' " the President
went on, " 'by six Jap zeros which had dived
at him from above. By skillful and almost
unbelievable maneuvering, the Lieutenant,
although his plane was riddled with flak
and bullets, managed to shoot down five out
of six of his attackers and returned to his
base, wounded himself, and with his tail
surfaces shot away . . .' "

'"PHE Chief Executive of the United
•*• States put down the document and took
up a medal from his desk. The newsreel
cameras were still grinding.

"Mr. President . . . ! " said Harry, put-
ting up his hand. "I can't accept this . . . ! "

The President turned upon the young fly-
ing officer his most reassuring smile. "Your
modesty is most becoming," he said. "It is
characteristic of our noble young men in the
service!"

Then, reaching out, the President began
to pin the medal on Harry's chest.

"To Lieutenant Peter Bauer, I, the Presi-
dent of the United States, now present, as
a token of his country's and his govern-
ment's appreciation for valorous conduct
under fire, this Distinguished Service
Cross . . . !"

Harry's eyes looked wild as the Presi-
dent, once more, shook his hand. He was
being patted on the back by the high rank-
ing officer, with other officials gathering
around,, showering him with congratula-
tions.

The newsreel men started dismantling
their equipment.

"Mr. President," said Harry. "I've been
trying to tell you . . .".

"I know just how you feel, Lieutenant,"
said the President. "Goodbye, sir— and
good luck!"

Harry found himself being escorted to
the door. He finally let out an inarticulate
cry and rushed from the room. In the cor-
ridor he encountered the White House
guard who had stopped him before.

"Well, did you get fixed up?" asked the
guard. Then, on seeing the medal, he ex-
claimed, "I should say you did!"

"Listen!" cried Harry , grabbing the
guard by the coat lapels. "My girl . . . Miss
Bracken . . . she wasn't there!"

"That's right," said the guard. "She and
her party just left here a few minutes ago."

"Oh, my gosh!" said Harry. "Where'd
they go?"

"They went with J. Edgar Hoover," said
the guard.

"So!" said Harry. "The F.B.I. 's got her!
What next?"

He dashed out of the White House. As
he did so, another young flying officer en-
tered the President's reception room.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he said, apologeti-
cally. "My taxi broke down. I'm Lieute-
nant Peter Bauer."

The secretary stared and gasped. "Oh!"
she said. "Just have a seat, Lieutenant. I
—I'll tell the President!"

/^VN THE ride to the Federal Bureau of
Investigation in the Department .of
Justice Building, Betty suddenly thought

136

AMAZING STORIES

of Harry. She turned to Mr. Schwartz.

"Oh," she said, "I just remembered! I
saw Harry at the White House. He must
have gotten that wire you sent for me! I
wonder what became of him?"

"You're worrying about him and we're
going to jail," said Sam.

Betty looked through the rear window of
the limousine and saw Hoover's car follow-
ing them.

"Senator," she said, "I'll bet you could
get away from them, if you tried. Let's
turn off here and go back to the White
House. I've got to find Harry!"

"Who in the name of Jumping Grasshop-
pers is Harry?" said the Senator, biting
nails in two with his jaws.

"He's the most wonderful man in the
world! " said Betty.

"An hour ago, I thought / was," said the
Senator, drily.

"But that was an hour ago," said Betty,
"And Harry hadn't shown up then. He's
been following me all across the country!"

"I don't know why," said the Senator, "I
should think he'd be running in the oppo-
site direction!"

"Why, Senator," said Betty, and patted
his cheek. "You say the funniest things!"

She turned once more to Mr. Schwartz.
"Oh, I've meant to ask you about that tele-
gram Harry sent me. I never did under-
stand it — about his being locked in my
hotel bedroom."

"What's that?" said the Senator.

"Oh, it's all right," explained Betty. "I
wasn't there at the time."

"I can't afford to have any scandal at-
tached to my name," said the Senator. "If
you're having men in your bedroom, I wish
you'd have the decency not to mention it
in public!"

"Why, Senator! What are you talking
about?" said Betty. "I'm as innocent as a
new born babe!"

"If you're innocent," said Senator Hooli-
han, speaking with a loud snort, "I'm a
Chinaman with pig-tails!"

"Just the same, I've got to find Harry,"
said Betty. "He's my one and only!"

Senator Hoolihan leaned back and re-
signed himself to the worst.

"Now, Mr. Schwartz," Betty persisted.
"Where do you suppose Harry could have
gone?"

"Search me!" said Sam.

"Oh, don't be silly!" she laughed. "He's
not on you!"

"I'm glad of that," said Sam. "That's
what I've been afraid of!"

"Me, too!" said Sid.

"What are you two hinting at?" de-
manded Betty.

"You'll find out soon enough," said Sid.

The limousine had now pulled up in
front of the government building contain-
ing the F.B.I, offices. Senator Hoolihan re-
strained the members of his party while he
looked up and down the street.

"Just a moment!" he said. "I want to
make sure that none of my . . . er — a —
political friends . . . or — a — enemies hap-
, pen to be passing . . . Yes, the coast seems
to be clear. Everybody out, please." Then
to Numar, "This is very distressing. It is
something I didn't anticipate. I trust you
are not too disturbed?"

"I am not disturbed at all," said Nu-
mar.

'"THE aides of J. Edgar Hoover met
* Numar and his party inside the build-
ing and escorted them to their Chief's
private office. They sat in this soberly im-
pressive atmosphere, nervously awaiting
Head G-Man Hoover's arrival.

Senator Hoolihan, most effected of all,
paced about the room, clasping and un-
clasping his hands behind his back, head
bowed. Betty, observing him, whispered to
Mrs. Bailey.

"You know, Auntie— there's something
about the Senator — the way he's acting now
— he looks just like Washington at Valley
Forge!"

"I wouldn't know as to that," said Mrs.
Bailey, her mind on other things.

"Or maybe Lincoln at Appomattox," dra-
matized Betty. "My, it's interesting to see
a big man in a historic moment like this! "

"Oh, God!" suddenly exclaimed the
Senator, extending his arms imploringly to-
ward the heavens.

"You see," said Betty. "I was right. He's
at the turning point of his career — and he
doesn't know where to turn!"

J. Edgar Hoover's appearance brought an
increase in the tension. He approached Nu-
mar and stood studying him for a moment.

"Walter Winchell has informed me about
you," he said. "I've had other reports. Will
you step down the hall, please? I want to
get your fingerprints."

Numar stood up.

"The rest of you may come along, if you
wish," said Mr. Hoover.

THE GREEN MAN

137

'"THE Chief of the F.B.I, himself took
Numar's right hand, pressed his
thumb and fingers on an ink pad and then
on a specially prepared sheet of paper. He
examined the result, exclaimed in surprise,
and turned back to Numar.

"Let's try that again," he said.

Numar smiled and extended his hand.
Mr. Hoover repeated the process. The re-
sult was the same — five perfectly smooth,
evenly colored black spots.

"Let's try your left hand," said Mr.
Hoover.

Numar obliged and, again, the prints
were examined.

All in Numar's party had been watching
this development with growing interest and
wonderment.

Without a word, the Chief of the F.B.I,
passed the prints he had made over to some
of his associates for examination. They
shook their heads. Mr. Hoover pressed a
button and called more of his experts in.
They also shook their heads. A new record
of Numar's fingerprints were made. It came
out the same. Mr. Hoover then called for a
magnifying glass and he and his experts be-
gan a study of Numar's hands.

Senator Hoolihan was finding it not quite
so hot in the room. He raised his brows
significantly and nodded at Professpr Bai-
ley.

"We may be vindicated after all," he
said, in a low voice.

"Mr. Numar," said J. Edgar Hoover,
finally, "You have very remarkable hands.
I suppose you are aware that they do not
finger print. Your skin appears to have
no lines at all — no arches, loops or whorls.
Of course, if this is genuine, it isn't
human!"

"I am not human," said Numar, quietly.

"If he isn't," said the Senator to Profes-
sor Bailey, "We're all right!"

The Chief of the F.B.I, was still not satis-
fied. "We'd like to make some chemical
tests on your skin," he proposed. "It's just
possible . . . !"

"There will be no chemical tests," said
Numar, with authority.

Mr. Hoover went into a huddle with his
staff of experts, which was being increased
by the minute as word spread through
F.B.I, headquarters that the Green Man
wouldn't fingerprint!

"Jeez!" said Sam to Sid. "What an idea
for a horror picture! A guy like the Green
Man commits a perfect crime. He doesn't

leave any fingerprints and he doesn't photo-
graph!"

"How do they catch him!" asked Sid.

"I should tell you!" said Sam. "This is
going to be a Warner Brothers picture!"

Numar was sitting watching the confer-
ence being held about him. He seemed
vastly amused. Betty came over to him.

"My, Mr. Numar— I think you're won-
derful!" she said. "I've been so busy since
we started this trip that I haven't had much
chance to tell you— but I think you're the
most wonderful whatever-you-call-yourself
that I've ever met!"

Numar smiled, reached out one of his
hands and patted her cheek. "I think
you're wonderful, too!" he said.

Senator Hoolihan, surprised, caught his
breath and let out a hearty guffaw.

Mr. Hoover came back to Numar. "I'm
frank to say that you have us completely
baffled. There have been no charges against
you. But, you've been such a sensation in
this country that we wished to check you
for our own information. You are free to
go now."

"Thank you," said Numar.

"Well, Mr. Hoover," said Professor
Bailey, putting out his hand. "It's nice to
have met you. I naturally feel quite re-
lieved."

"I never really doubted this man's iden-
tity," said Senator Hoolihan. "But you
know how people talk, Mr. Hoover, when
you're called in on a case. A man in the
public eye, like myself, has to be careful."
He let out a healthy chuckle. "So you
couldn't get Mr. Numar's fingerprints, eh?
, . . Well, well! That's going to be very
interesting to the boys over on Capitol
Hill!" The Senator walked jauntily to-
ward the door, motioning to his party to
follow him. "You folks will have to be
watching your time if you're catching that
six o'clock train for Chicago!"

"That reminds me!" said Betty. "I've
got to find Harry! ... Oh, Mr. Hoover,
could you locate him for me? He's a young
flying officer — and he looks like Clark
Gable!"

"That should be description enough,"
said the Chief of the F.B.I. "What's his
name?"

"Lieutenant Harry Hopper!" said Betty.
"He followed me to the White House and
I . . . !"

Mrs. Bailey took her niece firmly by
the arm.

138

AMAZING STORIES

"Come along," she said. "Mr. Hoover's
got more important things to do. He's
only interested in criminals!"

A S ONE elevator door closed on Numar
and his party, the one adjoining
opened to admit a young flying officer to
the floor. He looked at the directory on
the wall and headed, with all haste, to the
office of J. Edgar Hoover.

"I must see Mr. Hoover, at once," he
told the secretary.

"Whom shall I say is calling?"

"Lieutenant Harry Hopper," an-
nounced the flying officer.

"Just a moment, Lieutenant," said the
secretary. She left the outer office and
returned shortly. "Go right in," she said.

Harry burst in upon the Chief of the
F.B.I.

"Where is she?" he demanded.
"Where is who?" asked America's head
G-man.

"Betty Bracken," said Harry. "I under-
stand you picked her up!"

"Just how do you mean that?" asked
Mr. Hoover.

"Well, I was at the White House . . . !"
Harry tried to explain.

Mr. Hoover picked up a slip of paper
from his desk. "Yes, we've just had a
report on you from the White House," he
said. "It was nice of you to drop in. It
saves us the trouble of going out and get-
ting you."

"Getting me!" exploded Harry. "What
have / done?"

"Apparently," said Mr. Hoover, rising
and advancing toward Harry, "you've been
impersonating a fellow officer." He pointed
to the Distinguished Service Cross on Har-
ry'^s chest

"Oh, thai!" said Harry. "Well, I'll tell
you, Mr. Hoover . . . you're right, it
doesn't belong to me but . . . ! "

The Chief of the F.B.I, reached over
and unpinned the medal. "Then, I'll take
it for safe-keeping," he said. "Or did you
come to me to return it?"

"As a matter of fact," said Harry. "I'd
forgotten I had it on. You see, I'm so up
in the air about Betty. Where is she?"

"You mean that young lady with Mr.
Numar's party?" asked Mr. Hoover.

Harry nodded. "Yes!" he said.

"She just left here," said Mr. Hoover.

Harry turned on his heel. "Where'd she
go? I've got to reach her!"

"Sit down, young man!" ordered the
Chief of the F.B.I. "I want to have a lit-
tle talk with you!"

Harry dropped on the edge of a chair,
greatly agitated. "Listen, Mr. Hoover,
please don't hold me up or she'll get away
from me again! I've chased her from Los
Angeles to New York and now to Wash-
ington. I've been having a hell of a time! "

"It sounds like it," observed Mr. Hoover,
eyeing him, testily. "And, apparently, at
the government's expense."

"Oh, I'm on a five day leave," said
Harry. He fumbled in his pocket and pro-
duced the necessary papers. "Here. These
will tell you who I am and everything!"

Mr. Hoover studied the different identi-
fications and the pass signed by the Com-
mandant of Kelly Field. "This pass ap-
pears to have been issued for you to fly
your plane to California," he said. "I see
nothing "here which indicates you had per-
mission to fly to New York or Washing-
ton."

"But, Mr. Hoover," protested Harry. "It
was an emergency and I had to call upon
my own resources and initiative!"

"That's quite obvious," said Mr. Hoover.
"And, for that reason, I'm compelled to
call upon my resources and check up on
this matter."

Harry sank back in his chair. "Oh, my
gosh!" he moaned. "How long will that
take?"

"That depends," said Mr. Hoover. "But
we have a place here where we can make
you very comfortable."

"But, my girl . . . ! " said Harry. "What
will I do about her? . . . Mr. Hoover,
have you ever been in love? And has your
girl ever gone nuts?"

"I'm sorry," said Mr. Hoover, "my ro-
mantic life is my own affair. I think your
Commandant is going to be extremely in-
terested to know that you have been burn-
ing up the army's high test gasoline and
using your plane for private purposes!"

"I can explain everything," said Harry.

"That's what they all say."

A groan of despair escaped Harry's lips
which sounded like the wail of a dying cat.

"Betty!" he cried out, in anguished
tones. "If you could only know what
you're doing to me!"

CENATOR ALFRED B. HOOLIHAN
& entered the Senate chamber the follow-
ing morning with an air of great self-satis-

THE GREEN MAN

139

faction and importance. All was well with
the world and all was well with him. He
carried a bundle of Washington and New
York newspapers as well as copies of the
Life and Time magazines. All of these
periodicals carried glowing accounts of Mr.
Numar and his tour.

The morning papers had favorable things
to say of the Senator and while the pho-
tographs, as usual, did not reveal the pres-
ence of Numar, there were a number of
excellent likenesses of the Senator. He
looked somewhat foolish in a number of
pictures, shaking hands with the "man who
wasn't there," but this very fact was so
sensational as to bring him into greater
prominence. AH in all, his audacious ven-
ture had placed him in just the limelight
position he had desired and seemed bound*
to rebuild his political fences from Maine
to California. Perhaps this might even
place him in line for a Vice-Presidential
consideration in the next national elec-
tion.

The Senator walked to his desk on the
Senate floor, bowing right and left to his
colleagues, those who had already arrived
and were not already asleep. The night
life in Washington was really very strenu-
ous and it was difficult for Senators or any
government officials, for that matter, to be
awake and alert too early in the morning.
Senator Hoolihan, however, could sense a
rise in esteem toward him, which was radi-
ated from certain of his fellow members
who waved or called to him as he passed,

He seated himself at his desk and spread
out the papers and magazines. Here was
the New York Times whose slogan had long
been: "All the news that's fit to print."
And, here was Life Magazine, dedicated to
the policy, "All the news that's fit to see."
Both publications were devoting columns of
space and pictures to the doings of Numar.

The Times, this morning, had a picture
of the "Man from another planet" address-
ing Congress. It showed rapt attention on
the faces of Senators and Representatives,
their eyes fixed upon the rostrum, which
was empty. In the place where Numar
had actually stood, the Times had indi-
cated: "X marks the spot!"

"It's incredible! " said Senator Hoolihan,
as he viewed the picture. "There I am,
seated in the background, next to the Vice-
President. I can be plainly seen and yet
there's no trace of Mr. Numar. No evi-
dence that he was even there!"

The Senator thumbed through the ten
pages of photographs taken by Life camera
man, of earlier episodes in Numar's short
career on earth. One of them revealed
Walter WinchelPs gyrations in space at the
time he was supposedly holding Numar's
hand. The Life caption simply stated:
"Winchell Getting A Hot Tip!"

TURNING from Life to Time Magazine,
Senator Hoolihan sought out the sum-
mary of editorial comments concerning Nu-
mar. He read the following:

WHAT THE PRESS THINKS!

New York Times:

Mr. Numar impresses us as a being of un-
usual democratic bearing and extraordi-
nary poise. If he really eomes from the
distant and hitherto unheard of planet,
Talamaya, as he quietly asserts, then his
presence here is indeed remarkable. If he
does not, he is unquestionably a remark-
able fraud. We must await further verifi-
cation of his most unusual claim.

New York Herald-Tribune:
Old time G.O.P. and Conservative opin-
ion is divided on the alleged arrival of a
Green Man from some far-off planet in the
Milky Way. We have met Mr. Numar
and prefer to reserve judgment until other
reactionaries, liberals and left wing ele-
ments have passed on him. At this writing,
however, Mr. Numar appears to be holding
his own.

The Daily Worker:

Labor views Mr. Numar as a threat to
the peace and security of the American
home and our way of life. Should it ever
become possible for every human to derive
nourishment from air and water, as he pro-
fesses to do, then agriculture, the great
meat industry, and all manufacturers of
food-stuffs will be put out of business. It is
obvious what such a development would
do to the working man.

INDIVIDUAL OPINIONS!

Robert Ripley:

"I don't believe it!"

Bob Hope:

"The Green Man is Jerry Colonna in dis-
guise!"

AMAZING STORIES

Blng Crosby:

"Thank God, Numar is not another Sina-
tra!"

W. C. Fields:

"What do I want with a Green Man? Give
me a bottle of Scotch!"

Greta Gar bo :

"I should think he'd want to go home!"
Louella Parsons:

"He can't be real. He didn't let me report
his arrival!"

William Randolph Hearst:

"The yellow menace has turned green."

Henry J. Kaiser:

"No, we did not build the Green Man!"

Eddie Rickenbacker :
"I doubt if he's genuine. I lived on air
and water, myself, for three weeks in the
South Pacific!"

Walt Disney:

"The Green Man can't be photographed,
so we're drawing him in z new cartoon
series!"

Clare Boothe Luce:

"Anything Dorothy Thompson says about
him, I'm against!"

Eddie Cantor:

"He's just a minstrel in green face!"
Ed Wynn:

"He's going to make a 'perfect fool' out
of a lot of people!"

Secretary of State Hull:

"I am not in the least disturbed."

Ethel Barrymore:

"The Corn looks mighty Green from here!"
Mary Pick ford:

"I'm only interested in Buddy Rogers!"

Harry Emerson Fosdick:

"This may change our whole concept of

Religion!"

William Green:

"1 disclaim any relation to the Green

Man!"

Philip Murray:

"If he stays here, he'll have to join a
union!"

Man on the Street:

"What in hell is this all about?"

"Well!" said Senator Hoolihan to him-
self, as he leaned back in his seat. "I cer-
tainly am in great company, at last! I'll
probably be written up in Life and Time
next week! No telling where this may lead
to!"

TTE HAD been paying no attention to
* » the business in the Senate which had
been going on during his absorbed perusal
of papers and magazines. He had voted
automatically several times when the roll
was called on different bills, but they didn't
vitally concern him so why should he give
them any consideration? But now, some-
thing was happening on the floor which
brought him up with a start. Senator Bass,
from his rival state, was on his feet, shak-
ing his fist and demanding recognition from
the chair.

"The chair recognizes Senator Bass,"
said the Vice-President, who was presiding.

"Fellow members," addressed the Sena-
tor, speaking from his desk position. "I
would like to bring to the attention of this
most responsible body in the framework of
our American political structure, a matter
of the most imminent and paramount im-
portance!" Here, he turned to shake an
ominous finger at Senator Hoolihan. "It
concerns," he continued, "the action taken
by that Senator whose state adjoins mine
on the West — I shall not speak his name —
that action which brought before our two
houses of Congress, this alleged creature
from another planet. . . !"

"Hear! Hear!" sounded from the Sen-
ate floor, with vocal support also coming
from spectators in the gallery.

Every Senator present immediately woke
up or put aside what he was doing. Other
members, who had been out in corridors
or reception rooms, visiting with natives
from their home state or listening to ama-
teur or professional lobbyists, now began
trickling back to their seats. Even grown
men like to see fireworks.

Senator Hiram Ketcham Bass, having
delivered himself of this opening broad-
side, had worked up sufficient lather to
shave the hide of Senator Hoolihan.

THE GREEN MAN

141

"I wonder," said Senator Bass, in tones
of eloquent concern, "if my esteemed con-
federates have "duly considered the possible
implications of yesterday's unique and un-
paralleled joint session of Congress?"

"Yes, yes!" encouraged a friendly Sen-
ator on his right.

"What do we know," thundered Senator
Bass, "about this man, Numar? What does
anybody know? . . . Then why, I ask you,
should we, the Senate of the United States
of America — and they the House of Repre-
sentatives of this same United States of
America, have laid ourselves open to the
possible criticism of our people for having
harbored and abetted a most dangerous
foreign character?"

"Mr. Chairman!" appealed Senator
Hoolihan, leaping to his feet. "Will the
Senator from my rival state yield?"

"I will not!" said Senator Bass.

Senator Hoolihan remained standing and
glaring.

"How do we know," charged Senator
Bass, "that this Green Man, Numar, may
not be a paid inter-planetary spy? That
he may be here as part of an insidious
plot, using Senator Hoolihan as his unwit-
ting tool? How do we know, I say, that
this Green Man hasn't come to earth, to
get the lay of the land, and that he will
then return in force with an army of his
native Talamayans, to take our earth peo-
ple captive and convert us into a slave
planet?"

There were cheers intermingled with
roars of laughter.

"Don't laugh, gentlemen!" continued
Senator Bass. "We have slave nations to-
day. Why not a slave planet? Your an-
tecedents laughed at the advent of the
telephone, the automobile, the X-ray and
the radio ... the world laughed at Co-
lumbus . . . but I say to you — this mys-
terious Numar may be the forerunner of a
horde of such beings who will come shoot-
ing through space and over-run our earth! "

TTAVING divested himself of this robot
bomb which he let fall where i t
would, Senator Bass sat down and surren-
dered the floor.

"Mr. Chairman!" Senator Hoolihan was
shouting, so agitated that his coat lapels
were flapping. "I should like to reply to
. the Senator whose state, unfortunately, bor-
ders mine on the east. He sounds very
much to me like he's never recovered from

that Orson Welles' radio program." Then,
pointing a scornful finger, "He was perhaps
one of those frightened citizens who lis-
tened to the Martians' broadcast and
grabbed his ancestor's saber off the wall
and rushed out into the street, prepared to
give battle to the fiendish space invaders. I
assure you, gentlemen, there is nothing you
good Democrats and Republicans, with
free consciences — if any there still be —
need fear from the visit of Numar to this
earth!"

Having shot down Senator Bass' verbal
robot bomb, Senator Hoolihan now awaited
the next assault. This was not long forth-
coming. The rotund Senator Bass was on
his feet and pounding the desk.

"Mr. Chairman!" he bellowed. "I insist
that this Green Man, Numar, should be
compelled to state his purpose in coming
here! No alien should be allowed to travel,
at will, throughout this great country, with-
out his intentions being known! I propose
to introduce a bill regulating the entry into
our stratosphere and arrival on this earth
of beings from other planets! If Numar
was able to get here, then we may expect an
increasing number of visitors. Only God
knows with what powers they will be en-
dowed! . . . This planet must be made safe
from spatial invasion, not only for our-
selves, but for our children and our chil-
dren's children!"

Senator Bass plumped himself in his seat
amid applause. He looked defiantly about
the Senate chamber. His heavy salvo had
hit home. There was never-failing appeal
behind that phrase of making something
safe "not only for ourselves but for poster-
ity." He had put through many bills upon
this plea alone.

Senator Hoolihan once more had the
floor.

"If my opponent, who always views
things with alarm, is really serious," he
said, "Then I think he should be making
these remarks in a psychopathic ward
rather than this sober chamber of the
United States Senate!"

Senator Hoolihan had landed a direct hit.
An explosion of laughter followed. The
chairman almost broke his gavel rapping
for order.

Senator Bass was furious. Jumping atop
his desk, he shouted above the tumult: "As
between your acflons in this Senate and a
psychopathic ward — what makes you think
there's any difference?"

142

AMAZING STORIES

"\X7HILE Numar and his party were

* * making the sleeper jump to Chicago,
to be in attendance at the Chicago-Notre
Dame football game in Soldiers' Field, a
young flying officer, by the name of Harry
Hopper had been compelled to remain in
Washington, in custody of the F.B.I. He
was the next thing to a wild man.

J. Edgar Hoover had been trying to reach
the Commandant of Kelly Field, Texas,
without success. It seems that this officer
was away on twenty- four hours' leave, and
could not be contacted until eleven the fol-
lowing morning. At the designated time,
the former temporary holder of the Dis-
tinguished Service Cross was brought to the
head G-Man's office.

"I am putting the call through to your
Commandant right now," Mr. Hoover in-
formed. "I want you in on this conversa-
tion. Pick up that extension, please."

Harry did so, just as the connection was
made.

"Hello, Commandant? . . . This is J.
Edgar Hoover in Washington."

"Oh, yes, Mr. Hoover."

"I'm detaining a young flyer by the name
of Lieutenant Harry Hopper . . . !"

"You are . . . What in hell is he doing
in Washington?"

"He says he's following a girl!"

"Good God! Is he still following her? I
knew he'd gone on to New York but this
is too much! How did you get hold of
him?"

"He didn't get hold of me," broke in
Harry, impulsively. "I came to see him,
myself. I've had a hell of a time, Sir! I
can explain everything!"

"Get off the line! Where's that voice
coming from? . . . My wire must be
tapped!" the Commandant could be heard
bellowing from Texas.

"It's all right, Commander," said Mr.
Hoover. "I've had Lieutenant Hopper lis-
tening in. What do you want me to do
with him?"

"Just let me talk to him a second,"
roared the Commandant. "Is he still on the
line?"

Harry put his hand over the mouthpiece,
apprehensively. "Mr. Hoover, you take the
message for me," he said.

"Yes, he's still on the line," said the
Chief of the F.B.I., motioning to Harry.

"Why, you low-down, no good son of a
jackass! This is the last time I'll ever sus-
pend the war to help a man straighten out

his love affair ... !"

"But, Sir!" protested Harry. "It's not
straightened out yet!"

The cry of rage almost melted the tele-
phone wires. "I don't give a damn if it's
never straightened out! You listen to me,
Lieutenant Hopper! You put the seat of
your pants in that army plane and you fly
it back to Kelly Field like a bat out of hell!
Understand?"

"Yes, sir! " said Harry. "But can't I stop
over in Chicago? . . . My girl ...!"'

The long distance wire crackled and
snapped.

"NO!" shrieked the Commandant. "Your
leave is up! It's cancelled! You're under
military orders! Get in here and get in
quick!"

"Yes, Sir!" said Harry. "But it wouldn't
take much longer if I ... !"

There was an inhuman cry and a sud-
den sharp sound in Harry's ear. He looked
at J. Edgar Hoover.

"Why, I believe he's hung up," he said.

"And it sounds like you'll be hung up,
when you get back," said Mr. Hoover.

A LL Chicago knew that Numar was com-
**■ ing. The Windy City was full of wind
as everyone aired his views concerning the
Green Man. His reputation had been grow-
ing every move he made and his day in
Washington had capped a succession of
climaxes.

The happiest man in Chicago was Big
Hank Morrison, publicity director for the
University of Chicago. He was at the sta-
tion to meet Numar and his party with the
grin that wouldn't come off. Mr. Morrison
had some company. The station was
jammed with a crowd of curious humans
who were in the holiday spirit. Big Hank,
with the acumen of a live-wire publicity
man, had employed some college boys to
parade with banners containing the words:

WELCOME, NUMAR!
MAN FROM ANOTHER PLANET!

There was another reason for the crowd.
The University Band was there. No one
could say that Chicago was going to be de-
relict in greeting such a rare and distin-
guished personage, especially since Numar
had already wiped out all athletic financial
deficits of the University, with all tickets to
Soldiers Field sold, including more than ten
thousand "standing room onlys"!

THE GREEN MAN

143

As the train began pulling in. Big Hank
gave the band the signal. "All right, boys! "
he called. "Give 'em the good old 'Hot Time
in the Old Town Tonight'!"

It was a welcome that would have done
any politician proud. As Numar and his
party got off the train, he was met by the
greatest bedlam of discordant sound ever
let loose in the Union Terminal. He eyed
the huge banners and smiled.

"That's very interesting," he said.

Betty was still wearing her red ensemble,
having found it to be well received in Wash-
ington. She entered into the spirit of the
occasion by waving and blowing kisses to
the crowd. It responded in kind.

"I believe she's developing a public!"
said Sid. "When we get through with this
tour, this little girl is going to be worth
something in Hollywood!"

"I wish Mrs. Bailey had more glamour,"
said Sam. "I guess I can't expect any sal-
vage value out of her unless I'm able to
land Numar for Warner Brothers."

"You can't get him," said Sid. "I know.
I tried."

"Why, you louse! " said Sam. "I thought
we agreed the other day that we'd both hit
him together — and let the best man win!"

"Well, I knew I was the best man," said
Sid, "so I hit him alone. It's no go._ He
claims this no-photographing stunt is no
trick!"

"He's just holding out for bigger stakes,"
said Sam. "He's got something up his
sleeve. I'll find some way to get him in
pictures, if we have to shoot him in sub-
titles!"

BIG HANK Morrison was pushing his
close to three hundred pounds through
the cheering crowd. He reached out an ex-
pansive hand to Numar.

"Greetings, Mr. Numar! . . . Glad to see
you ! . . . Certainly swell of you to be here.
I appreciate it. President Hutchins appre-
ciates it. The University appreciates it.
The football team appreciates it — and the
whole damn town ... I mean, the whole
city — appreciates it!"

This welcome came from the depths of
Big Hank's heart as well as his pocketbook.
He had played a hunch on a dark horse
named "Green Man" and it had come home
the winner, paying odds of a thousand to
one. Nothing was too good for this horse
now. It would get all the laurel wreaths,
all the pats on the back, and all the oats of

acclaim it could swallow. This was the
biggest sporting day in the history of Chi-
cago University. It no longer mattered
whether its team showed up on the gridiron.
In fact, it might be the better part of valor
if it didn't! Notre Dame's Fighting Irish,
being partial to green, were apt to put on a
special field day for the Green Man, and
murder the out-of-practice team entirely!

"I have reservations for all at the Palmer
House," said Hank. "We'd better get go-
ing before we're mobbed in here!"

He led the way up the stairs with the
band members pushing through ahead of
him and forming in the street. The boys
with the banners lined up in front of the
band. There were three waiting open cars.
Hank Morrison was doing everything up in
style.

"Just a little parade," he announced.
"Down through the Loop to your hotel.
Everyone wants to see you, Mr. Numar,
since you don't photograph. Most of these
people on the street are those who couldn't
get tickets to the game. You know, we've
got to keep in good with the public!"

Numar nodded and looked down Jackson
Boulevard, which was packed with people.

"Here, young lady, you get in this car
with Professor and Mrs. Bailey," directed
Hank, "And you two men! " addressing Mr.
Alex and Mr. Schwartz, "Ride in the car
behind. I'll ride with Mr. Numar in this
car up front."

Police had difficulty keeping men and
women as well as youths from climbing over
the cars. Requests were made for Numar's
autograph. Newspapers, cards and pieces
of paper of every description were pushed
at him from all sides. He smilingly raised
his hand and shook his head.

"You dopes!" yelled someone. "The
Green Man can't write!"

"Sure he can!" shouted someone else.
"Let him sign it in his own language!"

The University of Chicago Band struck
up a tune. It was "Boola! Boola!" which
soon went into the "Beer Barrel Polka."
This was America. This was youth. No
stiff collar welcome, no fancy dress, no pre-
tense! Just good old middlewestern hos-
pitality of the sweet corn variety.

"I think it's wonderful!" said Betty,
popping up and down in her seat between
the Professor and Mrs. Bailey, as she waved
and called to the crowd. "My, it's great to
be famous!"

"I think, Betty," said Mrs. Bailey. "You

AMAZING STORIES

should be reminded that this parade is not
for you!"

"Maybe not!" said Betty, joyously. "But
I'm for it!"

Big Hank, seated with Numar in the lead
car, after they had gone a block, made a
suggestion,

"I guess you'd better stand, Mr. Numar.
I'm so big, people on my side of the street
can't see you. And, you are a curiosity, you
know!"

■^TUMAR graciously arose and stood,
balancing himself against the front
seat. He quietly acknowledged the cheers,
catcalls, whistles and wavings of the crowd.
A§ the procession turned into State Street,
a flood of torn paper, in confetti-like form,
came floating down from the throngs in the
windows, settling over those in the cars.

Someone, operating the loud speaker sys-
tem, used by State Street merchants, bel-
lowed out like a side-show hawker: "Here
he comes, ladies and gentlemen! . . . Here
he comes! Here's the Green Man! Here's
the visitor from that far-off planet! Stand
back, folks. Give everyone a chance to see
him! Hi, there, Mr. Numar! Welcome to
Chicago!"

Numar gazed up into the buildings, try-
ing to locate the source of the sounds. He
had a puzzled expression on his face.

"What a queer custom!" he said.

The parade stopped in front of the
Palmer House and police formed a line to
help Numar and his party into the hotel.
The train had been late and it was almost
noon.

"The game begins at two o'clock," in-
formed Hank. "This gives you people a
chance to go to your rooms, get rested up
and grab a bite to eat. I'll come back for
you all at a quarter to two!"

TF AMERICA has one love to whom it is
* always true, it is sport. It makes no
difference whether that sport is tiddly-
winks, ping pong, bridge or post office,
America loves sport, In fact, our educa-
tional system is based upon it. We give
little thought to the curriculum of any
school or college to which we are consider-
ing sending our children. Our first ques-
tion is, "What kind of a football team does
it have?" If the answer is "Not so hot!"
we usually pass up the institution and send
our children somewhere else. The offspring
must have something to cheer about and

how can they get excited over Greek or
Latin or Ancient History if they don't have
a football star in their class?

The University of Chicago should have
known better. President Hutchins made the
mistake of believing that young people went
to college to be educated. He and his in-
stitution had paid dearly for this mistake
on the athletic side of the ledger. But, this
afternoon, they were about to redeem them-
selves. The intellect as well as the brawn
was to be handsomely served! A football
game and a man from another planet on
the same program! Here was an event un-
equaled in all sporting history and, more-
over, what pleased President Hutchins most
was the fact that the crowd was coming to
see the man rather than the athletic con-
test!

"Perhaps, some hundreds of years from
now, we can assemble a crowd like this to
hear a debate on some important subject of
national or international interest," he said,
hopefully. "Of course, I shan't live to see
it — but it's nice to contemplate!"

PUBLICITY can create a new fashion,
establish a new fad, make a star over
night, ruin an individual's character quicker
than that, change the course of thought, sell
anybody anything—and even start a war.
It is one of the greatest forces ever unloosed
upon a seemingly always unsuspecting pub-
lic. No business or industry or ambitious
individual can get along without it today.
They must be known, either favorably or
unfavorably, or the world will seek its
mousetraps elsewhere.

But Numar had acquired, in four days'
time, a devastating barrage of publicity
which had absolutely blanketed anything
else concurrently taking place on earth. He
arrived at Soldier Field, Chicago, to be met
by a crowd of 130,000 people, by all odds
the greatest assemblage of humans ever
squeezed into this huge Lake Shore bowl.
The presence of this enormous gathering
was a tribute to the power of the radio and
the press as well as to Numar, himself. He
was already the great question mark of the
Twentieth Century. Could Soldier Field
have held every man, woman and child in
Chicago, it still would have been too small.
But those who could not get in were making
sure that they were near a radio to hear, if
not to see, this man from another planet.

Five minutes before game time, Big Hank
Morrison, with police escort, led Numar

THE GREEN MAN

145

and his party to box seats at midfield on
the University of Chicago side. There, the
party was met by President Hutchins and
members of his staff. While Numar was
being presented to them, the customary
news reel camera men and photographers
were at work. The mammoth crowd looked
on, taking its attention entirely off the
Notre Dame and University of Chicago
teams which were warming up on the field.
The football players themselves were so in-
terested that they broke formation and
stared.

"I suppose, Mr. Numar," said President
Hutchins, "that you've never been in such
a crowd as this in your life."

"Oh, yes," smiled Numar, "I've been in
large gatherings on other planets!"

"Other planets," repeated President
Hutchins, eyeing him doubtfully, "you
mean there are turn-outs for you like this
on other planets?"

"Curiosity is the same everywhere," said
Numar.

"We certainly appreciate your doing this
for the University," said President Hutch-
ins, feeling his way.

Numar smiled. "I very much appreciate
your doing this for me!" he said.

"I suppose you've never seen a game of
football," speculated President Hutchins.

"No, I have not," said Numar.

"I'll be glad to explain it to him," said
Betty. "I know all about it!" She had
wormed herself in beside President Hutch-
ins, to whom she had been introduced.

"You may have to do a great deal of ex-
plaining," said the U. of C. president, "I'm
not so sure we're going to see a game of
football this afternoon!"

Mr. Alex and Mr. Schwartz were sitting,
looking over the crowd. Mr. Schwartz's
lips were moving and he was pointing to dif-
ferent rows.

"What are you doing?" asked Sid.

"I'm counting the house," said Sam.
"Jeez, but this is tough on the picture busi-
ness!"

"It sure is!" agreed Sid. "We'll have to
get Numar in pictures or he'll ruin us. I'll
bet 'Gone With the Wind' couldn't run
against him!"

Mrs. Bailey was seated beside her hus-
band. He had acted of late as though all
these activities had him in a daze, which,
in fact, they had. "You know, our little
home was so peaceful before this all hap-
pened," she said.

"That's just what I was thinking," said
the Professor. "Here I've never cared for
crowds; I've always tried to avoid them,
and now I can't seem to get away from
them. But, maybe, after today . . ." He
left the thought unfinished and looked to-
ward Numar.

"What do you think he's going to say?"
asked Mrs. Bailey.

"My dear Nellie," said the Professor. "I
haven't the remotest idea. But this Mr. Nu-
mar has super-human self-assurance. Just
look at him! He's sitting there as com-
posed as a boy on a backfence — and yet he
knows the whole world is going to be listen-
ing to him in a little over half on hour.
I'd be as nervous as ten cats!"

"I'm nervous, anyway," said Mrs. Bailey,
"I'll be glad when this is over. How can
any person, no matter who they are, live
up to this advance notice?"

"That's the question, my dear," said the
Professor, "that only time, and Numar—
can answer!"

PRESIDENT Hutchins' misgivings as to
- 1 whether or not a game of football would
be played on this particular afternoon were
quite justified. Sports writers, with only
two minutes remaining of the first half,
were calling the game a track meet and giv-
ing all points to Notre Dame. The score
was Notre Dame, 55; University of Chica-
go, 0.

"I can't explain any more," said Betty,
to a strangely silent Numar. "I'm all out
of breath!"

The great crowd was fidgeting in its seats
and watching the time clock. It wouldn't
be long now until the extra-added attrac-
tion which had caused them to buy tickets
to this football massacre, would be at hand.
They would soon see and hear the Green
Man.

"I hope he's worth the price of admis-
sion," said a spectator. "This game cer-
tainly isn't!"

At this moment, there came the sudden
roar of an airplane motor. It was a low
flying plane, tearing in from the east. It
passed quickly over Soldiers Field, then
circled and came back. The pilot dived, then
banked and spun around over the heads of
the 130,000, as though looking for some-
one.

"It's an army plane," said Sid.
"Yeah," said Sam. "Seems like I've seen
it before, somewhere."

AMAZING STORIES

"They all look alike," said Sid.

But Betty, who had been watching with
two hearts in her throat, suddenly jumped
to her feet and began shrieking: "It's
Harry! It's Harry! . . . Look! He just
waved to me!"

"Betty, behave yourself! " said Mrs. Bai-
ley. "How can he see you in a crowd like
this?"

"It's my red dress!" said Betty. "Just
look at him go! Oh! He almost hit that flag
pole! Harry! Be careful!"

The crowd was getting an unexpected
thrill,' almost too close for comfort. This
army pursuit plane had roared around the
top of Soldiers Field, almost like a motor-
cycle on a vertical track. But, suddenly,
the engine began to sputter and cough, A
trail of black smoke shot out from it. The
pilot was seen to be having trouble. His
plane dipped and rocketed out toward the
Lake.

"Goodbye, Harry!" said Sid.

Sam held hands over his ears. "Tell me
when he crashes!" he said.

The great crowd was in an uproar. Top
row spectators on the stadium east side,
stood up to follow the course of the plane.
There was a moment of great suspense . . .
and then a man with powerful field glasses
cried out: "What do you know! He's landed
on that carrier in the Lake! Boy, oh boy!
What a close call! " The word was quickly
passed around to the relieved crowd and the
unknown dare-devil pilot was the subject of
excited speculative discussion.

"Oh, I'm so glad he's safe!" said Betty.
"I know he did that just for me! "

"He didn't do it for the army, that's
sure," said Sam.

"He's got a nice persistent quality," said
Sid. "He's apt to get there some day."

"Get where?" said Sam.

"Well, that's the point," said Sid.

A whistle was blowing which no one had
been paying any attention to. In the ex-
citement of the moment, the Chicago Uni-
versity right end had grabbed the ball
away from a Notre Dame player and had
run the length of the field for his team's
first touchdown of the year!

Those in the crowd who had been
ashamed to admit they were Chicago
alumni, now gave vent to an entire season's
pent-up emotions. The first half ended
with the score: Notre Dame 55; U. of C.
6. The shock had been too great. They
couldn't kick the point after touchdown.

IT HAD been a quiet Saturday afternoon
on board the Naval Training Aircraft
Carrier, laying at anchor on Lake Michi-
gan, with most of its officers and crew on
shore leave, when this unidentified army
pursuit plane had come hurtling down out
of the sky for a forced landing on its deck.

"Whew!" said the young flying officer,
as he climbed out of the plane, one wheel
of which was dangling over the side. "My
motor went dead! Gosh! I just saw this
ship in time! I'm sure glad it was down
here! That water looked plenty wet to
me!"

"Where are you from?" asked the officer
in charge.

"I'm just in from Washington," an-
nounced the pilot. "Are you the com-
mander of this ship?"

"No, he's at Soldiers Field," said the
officer in charge.

"Soldiers Field!" exclaimed the pilot.
"What's the quickest way to get there?"

"Well, we can take you ashore by launch
and the rest of the way by motorcycle
sidecar."

"Then, what are we waiting for?" said
Harry. "Let's go!"

He got action in the traditional Navy
style.

T> ACK at Soldiers Field an unusual spec-
tacle was taking place. By special
arrangement, the University of Chicago and
Notre Dame bands had combined and were
marching in formation. They were putting
on a show, not in honor of each other, but
for the exclusive edification and entertain-
ment of the Man from Another Planet.

Numar had now been brought down, in
company with President Hutchins, to a
portable platform, with battery of micro-
phones, which had been set up near mid-
center field. Everything was in readiness
for the most unique broadcast in all earth
history. But, first, a tribute was being
paid to Numar.

The two bands formed an enormous let-
ter "T," emblematic of the planet Tala-
maya, from whence the Green Man had
come. This fact was pointed out to Numar
by President Hutchins, just as the com-
bined bands, standing at attention, in the
form of the "T," struck up the tune,
"Home, Sweet Home."

"Our publicity director thought this
might be appropriate," explained President
Hutchins, "for a man a trillion miles from

THE GREEN MAN

147

home!"

"It's what the newspapers like," said
Big Hank Morrison, a bit uncomfortably.
"You understand?"

Numar nodded and smiled.

The cheer leaders suddenly went into
action. They ran up and down the side
lines holding up large cards on which di-
rections were written. The crowd quickly
caught on and over one hundred thousand
voices burst forth in a typical college yell.

"Rick! Stack! Frizzle-back!
Kutchu! Kutchu! Boom-a-lack!
Sis! Boom! Bah!
NUMAR! NUMAR!
Rah! Rah! Rah!"

This was followed by tremendous laugh-
ter and great applause. The voice of the
radio announcer now filled the loudspeaker:

"Ladies annd gentlemen! For this spe-
cial broadcast, all national and interna-
tional networks have joined together that
the entire world, from pole to pole and
hemisphere to hemisphere, may hear the
message of Numar, the Green Man from
the Planet Talamaya! I give you now,
President Robert Hutchins, of the Uni-
versity of Chicago, who will introduce this
distinguished personage to you . . . Presi-
dent Hutchins!"

A hush fell over the vast stadium and
when 130,000 people are silent, that silence
can be felt.

Professor and Mrs. Bailey had taken
hold of hands. Both of them were trem-
bling and almost afraid. Even Betty was
still. Mr. Alex and Mr. Schwartz were all
but holding each other's breath.

"May I address you, my great visible
and invisible audience," spoke President
Hutchins, "as fellow human creatures ev-
erywhere! I feel that this occasion calls
for such a form of address because, if Mr.
Numar is who we believe him to be, then
be, himself, is not a human creature like
us, but a different and higher type of being
from another planet. That he should have
come here, as he claims, a trillion miles
through space, to deliver to us creatures of
earth a sober message of great import, is
sufficient reason for us to stop all worldly
thought and action and to listen to what
he has to say in a most respectful and
reverent spirit.

"As you who are acquainted with my
ideals of education must know, I highly

favor the advancement of the mind and
spirit in man. I do not decry the exercise
of physical energy on the athletic field. I
only decry its over-emphasis. Let us hope
that what Mr. Numar has to say to us may
lead to a higher advancement of our life
on this earth. It is my pleasure now to
present to you this visitor to our earth
from the planet Talamaya, Mr. Numar!"

HTHE white-robed figure of the Green
Man came forward to take his posi-
tion before the microphones and face his
great visible audience. A vast shadow of
silence passed over the face of the earth.
The ear of the world was pressed against
the radio. People of every race, color and
creed who could speak or understand Eng-
lish; millions of others who would hear the
voice of this man from another planet and
have his words translated for them, almost
as he spoke; the high brow, the low brow;
the rich, the poor; the sick in mind or
body; the devout, the profane — something
in the unbelievable story of Numar had
caught and held their attention. Man had
always feared the unknown, was intrigued
by the mysterious, and in awe of the In-
finite. Numar represented all of this to
the mind on the street and the intellect in
high places.

'% Numar, the Awakener, am here!"
said the voice. "I have been sent here to
speak a prophecy to you.

"A great light is soon to appear in the
heavens. Its brilliance will startle all man-
kind. It will cast an illumination over the
entire earth. It will mark the beginning
of the great change to take place on this
planet. It will awaken all humans to the
realization that there is a power far greater
than themselves. . . ."

There had scarcely been a physical
movement among the 130,000 people
massed in Soldiers Field. The figure of
the Green Man and what he was saying
had so magnetized the throng that it was
unconscious of the passage of time. His
resonant voice had an easy, majestic, com-
pelling flow. Each word not only entered
the human ear, but the mind as well.

"Scientists, looking through earth tele-
scopes," the voice continued, "will describe
this light as a far distant universe being
destroyed, the light rays of which have just
reached you in this present day. The pres-
ence of this great phenomenon, in the
heavens, will cause the greatest spiritual

Numar rose and cams forward to the microphone to give hit great message-

revival known to man. All grades of in-
telligence will be caused to think now, not
in global terms, but in cosmic terms. . ."

A bright shaft of light from the setting
sun outlined the white-robed figure of the
Green Man, giving him a transcendent un-
earthly appearance.

"This great light," the voice went on,
■'will deal the forces of darkness the great-
est blow since the appearance of Christ on
this earth. Awe-struck millions will search
their souls as never before. There will
arrive, at this time, a host of higher beings
assigned to work with the new spiritual
leaders who will take their places among
their fellow humans. The flood gates of
revelation will be opened up in Science and
man will commence to grope from threat-
ened chaos toward a new harmony of being
with all things. The time is not fore-or-
dained. It is to be synchronous with de-
velopments on your planet. The first
evidence of this great light will be detected
in the east. When this comes to pass, you
will know that I, Numar, the Awakener,
have spoken!"

'""THE shadow of silence rushed back
A over the earth, giving way to a tidal
wave of comment. On Soldiers Field, a
referee's whistle was blowing. Time for
the second half of the football game to
begin. While, over the radio, as the world-

wide network was broken, an announcer's
voice was heard to be saying:

"Green's Vitamin-Plus Spinach has been
glad to relinquish its time between halves
of this game, that this special broadcast
might take place . . . !"

And, at one of the main gates of the
stadium, a Navy chief petty officer, in com-
pany with an army pilot, was speaking to
the head usher.

"Here's the Commander's seat location.
We've got to reach him at once!"

"Follow me! " said the head usher.

The two men in uniform had to fight
their way through a mob of people who
were leaving Soldiers Field, not staying
for the second half of the game. Aisles
were jammed. They finally got through
behind the head usher to the field box
containing the Navy commander and his
party.

"Fortunately, they're still here," said the
chief petty officer. He slipped a tip to the
head usher and motioned to the army pilot.
"I'll present you!"

"Okay!" said Harry, but his interest
was elsewhere, as his eyes searched the
field. Directly across from him he saw
the portable radio platform, on which Nu-
mar had spoken, being moved off the grid-
iron. Betty must be over on that side
somewhere.

"Commander," he heard the chief petty

— and an impressivs silence fell over the vast throng

officer saying, "this is Lieutenant Harry
Hopper from Washington. He's here on
urgent business!"

"I'll say it's urgent!" said Harry, turn-
ing and saluting. "Commander, loan me
your field glasses for a moment!"

Before the astonished Navy official could
do or say anything, this young flying
officer had snatched the glasses from his
hands and was focusing them on some ob-
ject or person on the other side of the
stadium.

Numar and his party were actually in
the process of leaving. Plane reservations
had been made for them to depart for Cali-
fornia at five that afternoon. There was
just time to get back to the Palmer House,
secure their luggage, and catch the limou-
sine for the airport. Numar was taking
leave of President Hutchins, with Betty,
the Baileys, Mr. Alex and Mr. Schwartz
beside him.

"Sorry you have to miss the second half
of this great contest," said President Hutch-
ins, humorously, as the two teams were lin-
ing up on the field.

"It is necessary," said Namur. "I have
finished here."

"This will be a long remembered occa-
sion," said President Hutchins, "and I, for
one, will watch for this great light in the
sky."

"It will come," said Numar, quietly.

Big Hank Morrison had secured a police
detail and a way was being cleared for
them to exit, with a car waiting outside to
take them back to the hotel.

"Very fine, Mr. Numar," said Big Hank.
"I never heard anything like it. You cer-
tainly knocked your audience for a goal!"

"He certainly did!" said Betty. "He
even knocked me for a goal!"

"I'm unconscious yet," said Sam.

"You've always been unconscious!" said
Sid.

The Professor and Mrs. Bailey were still
beyond speaking.

A CROSS the field, a young flying officer
had finally located the object of his
search. She was a blonde in a red dress.

"There she is! That's her!" cried Harry,
excitedly. He turned quickly and pressed
the field glasses back into the hands of the
Navy commander. "Here you are, Sir!
I'll be back!"

A straight line is still the shortest dis-
tance between two points. With the aisles
so crowded, it would take at least half an
hour for an individual to go around the
stadium to the point directly opposite on
the other side. Harry could not afford any
such expenditure of time. He had to be
over there now because the girl in the red
dress was leaving. There was only one
course open — and Harry took it. He leaped

150

AMAZING STORIES

out of the field box and started racing
across the gridiron.

"Stop that man!" yelled the Navy com-
mander.

Chicago University was kicking off to
Notre Dame. The football, spinning end
over end, struck the earth in front of
Harry and bounced into the arms of a
Notre Dame man, and out again. A wall
of frenzied U. of C. tacklers, intent on
recovering the free ball, executed a con-
verging movement. Harry had eyes only
for Betty. He kept them on her as he
ran. But ominous things were happening
in his immediate vicinity. He was suddenly
struck as though by a ten ton truck, and
sent reeling.

"Betty!" he shouted. "Oh, Betty!"

He was hit again, but still kept his feet.
However, he was running into the vortex
of a human tornado. The ball, being
kicked around, finally landed directly in
front of him. He was hit hard from be-
hind and then on all sides. The force of
these blows shot him through the air. He
fell on top of the pigskin and both teams
fell on top of him. Thus it was, that
an army pilot recovered the loose -ball in
the game between Chicago University and
Notre Dame, and precipitated a technical
argument involving the referee and every-
player on both sides, while he, himself, lay
stretched upon the field, dead to the world !

VX/'ORLD reaction to Numar's radio
* message was as varied as might hu-
manly have been expected. This reaction
depended somewhat upon the geographical
location and temperament of the different
earth peoples, as was evidenced by a state-
ment issued from a spokesman for the Far
East.

"All Asia will watch for this light in the
East as the harbinger of good tidings that
we are to be freed, forever, from the rule
of the White Man."

Mahatma Gandhi came out of retirement
to declare: "The only hope for India is in
the heavens. We can do nothing with Eng-
land, otherwise."

Premier Stalin was reported to have said:
"Russia has already seen the light. We are
sufficient unto ourselves."

As for Winston Churchill, his rumored
comment was: "I hope such light may come
but, as for me, I see nothing ahead but
blood, tears and sweat!"

Word from the White House was terse

and to the point: "No comment!"

Waldemar Kaempffert, science editor of
the New York Times, had this pertinent
observation to make: "Of course what Nu-
mar predicts is possible enough but not
probable. There are, no doubt, great cos-
mic catastrophies occurring throughout the
universe, worlds exploding and burning up
at unimaginable degrees of heat, as a part
of the inexorable changes always taking
place. But we earth peoples have never, so
far as is known, been eye-witnesses of any
such phenomenon. However, if Mr. Nu-
mar's prophecy should come true, it would
be startling, to say the least!"

Roy Howard, in his Scripps-Howard pa-
pers, took a facetious point of view. In a
lead editorial headed: "Numar Turns Out
A Prophet?" he said, "Now we know the
Green Man is a prophet. We, therefore,
apologize to our readers for welcoming him
to this earth. He told us, in this momen-
tous broadcast, that we should look for a
light in the East. We see a light in the
East every morning and humans have been
seeing it for thousands of years — so Mr.
Numar is just a little bit late with his
prophecy. However, it was a good try!
For just a short time, he had us worried,
but the moment he announced himself as a
prophet, we knew he belonged in the class
of the Ballard, T Am-ers,' the 'Omnipotent'
OOm-ers' and the 'Voodoo-ites.' "

The editors of the Daily Worker, with
obvious relief, announced to their heter-
ogeneous list of subscribers, "The world
can go back to work, now that Numar has
spoken. He offered no solace for the work-
ing man, no plan for the bettering of labor
conditions or the improvement of relations
between employee and employer. We are
glad to state that his promised threat to our
civilization was piffling indeed. He referred
only vaguely to some light which was to
appear in the sky and herald the approach
of a new spiritual era. We are unim-
pressed. The capitalists have been predict-
ing this for us for years."

Senator Hoolihan, however, heroically
declared to the press that he intended to
have Numar's address read into the Con-
gressional Record so that his prophecy
might be given official recognition when it
came true.

As for the local Chicago papers which
were at the scene of action, the statements
of two noted editors are worthy of note.

Colonel McCormick of the Chicago Trib-

THE GREEN MAN

151

une summed up his feelings in one sen-
tence: "I haven't any evidence as yet — but
I strongly suspect a pro-British group is
behind this!"

Marshall Field of the Chicago Sun seized
upon Numar's address as endorsing the
"Truth" policy of his paper. "Numar,"
said Mr. Field, "is a forecaster of the birth
of Truth on this planet, for which the Sun
has long been a pioneer!"

And California, not to be outdone,
through its Los Angeles Chamber of Com-
merce, sent a wire of protest to the Green
Man: "Mr. Numar," the telegram said,
"why give the East all the breaks? What
about a light in the West?"

IT WAS a relief to the members of Nu-
mar's party to be safely buckled into
their seats on the plane. It had been a
hectic three days of cross-country travel,
scarcely knowing what the next moment
would bring in new developments and high
pressure happenings. But now they could
sit back and relax as their TWA airliner
moved smoothly along under a clear night
sky. The stewardess had started making
up their berths.

"I wonder what the world is thinking
of your talk?" said Professor Bailey, who
was seated beside Numar.

"I know what it is thinking," said the
man from another planet.

Professor Bailey hesitated. "Is it good?"
he finally asked. "Does the world believe?"

Numar shook his head. "No," he said.
"The world will not believe until it sees a
sign. That is why I came to your earth — to
point to that sign. And, when the great
light appears ... !"

"I know," said the Professor. "It's the
same with my work. I discover a new star
in the heavens and no one will believe me,
that is until . . ."

"Until they find that star for them-
selves," finished Numar.

Mr. Alex and Mr. Schwartz were having
a serious consultation. '

"I don't think this Numar is going to go
so good in Hollywood now, even if he
photographed," said Sid.

"Me, either," said Sam. "Of course we
haven't seen the press reports on his act
yet — but this 'light in the sky business' —
that's too far away. If people have to wait
for something to happen, they lose inter-
est."

"That's right," said Sid. "Now, if he had

said that the day after tomorrow, at mid-
night, we were going to see the heavens
lit up, he'd have had the whole world
crazy."

"Yeah," said Sam. "Including me!"

Sid scratched his head behind both ears.
"Well, we've got to salvage something out
of this trip." A gleam came into his eyes.
"I've got it!" he cried. "We'll do an
original story on Numar and put Miss
Bracken and Mrs. Bailey in it. Boy, what
a drama! What a comedy! What a farce!"

Sam sat blinking. "You're right!" he
said. "It's got everything and I've got the
title for it!"

"What's that?" asked Sid.

" 'The Light That Failed'!" said Sam.

"That's terrific!" said Sid, "You're in on
the deal! I'll register that title at the Hays
office as soon as we get off the plane!"

"Wait a moment!" said Sam. "How can
we do this? I'm working for Warner Broth-
ers!"

"Resign your position," said Sid. "I'll re-
sign mine. We'll form our own producing
company!"

"What'll we do for money?" asked Sam.

"Why did you have to bring that up?"
said Sid, and slumped in his seat.

IT REQUIRED some tall explaining and
more long distance telephoning for
Lieutenant Harry Hopper to get his plane
off the deck of the Naval Training Aircraft
Carrier in Lake Michigan. That he man-
aged to do it was a tribute to irrepressible
youth, a certain degree of human sympathy,
and more good luck than any young man
has a right to have.

"You can depend upon it, Sir," he had
told his outraged Commandant, over the
phone. "I'll fly her right in from Chicago
— positively!"

As he took to the air, this was his firmest
resolution, but resolutions, even when made
on New Year's Day, last little longer than
the fizz on a Bromo-Seltzer. How could
Harry help it if the nose of his plane was
pointing toward California instead of
Texas?

"If I don't hit a mountain peak," he said,
grimly, "I'll beat that TWA plane in to
Los Angeles and wring Numar's neck the
moment he steps off!"

Harry arrived, as he had planned, half an
hour ahead of the commercial airliner, but
he found there were others ahead of him,
waiting to seize Numar and visit punish-

152

AMAZING STORIES

ment upon him. The Chief of Police of
Los Angeles and half a dozen officers from
his department were on the scene. With
them were reporters and photographers.

"We'll get the low-down story this time,"
they said.

"Yes, and we may even get a picture!"
laughed a camera man.

Harry lost no time in giving the police an
account of his cross-country chase.

"That guy had the world fooled but not
me," he said. "I thought he was a fake
from the start, and I've been trying to get
my girl away from him. I've risked demo-
tion from the army and everything. Say,
can't I prefer charges against Numar for
transporting Miss Bracken from state to
state?"

The Chief shook his head. "No, what
you're talking about is white slavery."

"White slavery! " said Harry. "It's green
slavery! He's got her mesmerizedl"

"We know he's a fake," said the Chief,
"And we're not going to let him set up any
cult in California. That's unquestionably
what he's coming back here to do!"

"By God!" exclaimed Harry. "I see it
all now — and he's going to make Betty his
high priestess!"

"We'll put a stop to that! " said the Chief.
"I've dealt with every kind of a nut there
is. We'll expose his tricks and put him in
jail."

There could now be heard the far-off
drone of a two-motored plane and a TWA
airliner was sighted, its silver sides glisten-
ing in the morning sun.

"There they come!" cried the police.

All on the ground rushed for the spot to
which the plane would taxi, when unload-
ing.

INSIDE the airliner, Numar suddenly
stiffened, a pensive look came in his dark
eyes. He turned to Professor Bailey.

"Will you call all of our party to our
compartment?" he requested. "Please
hurry. We haven't much time."

Wonderingly, the Professor did as in-
structed. Numar eyed them all, soberly.

"My time on earth is now getting short,"
he announced. "In leaving you, I have a
few things I wish to say."

"Mr. Numar," said Professor Bailey,
"You are welcome to stay with us as long
as you ... I think I'm speaking for my
wife as well as myself, when I say we've
both become quite . . ."

"You have each been very kind to me,"
said Numar. He took some folded slips of
paper from beneath his robe and handed
to them. "Here are my checks from the
Frank Morgan and 'Information, Please'
programs. I have signed them over to you.
As you know, I have no use for money."

Professor Bailey tried to speak and
couldn't. Mrs. Bailey was speechless.

Numar turned to Mr. Alex and Mr.
Schwartz. "You gentlemen must not feel
too badly about not getting me for pic-
tures," he smiled. "I foresee that you will
profit from this experience after I am gone."

"He talks like he's on his death bed,"
said Sam.

"He'll have us crying in a moment," said
Sid.

"I think you all should know," said Nu-
mar, quietly, "that, waiting at the airport
now, to arrest me, are policemen from the
city of Los Angeles."

"But you have done nothing," protested
the Professor.

"I have disturbed a great many people,"
said Numar, "I want you to be prepared for
my reception. It will be unlike any I have
had before."

"Can we do anything to help?" asked
the Professor.

"Yes," said Numar. "I must get to the
place in the mountains where my space
ship is waiting!"

"Your space ship!" cried Betty. "You
really mean it?"

"Of course he meant it!" said Professor
Bailey. "I've told you people, I've seen it! "

"Then we've got to help him some way ! "
said Betty. "I'll figure out something, Mr.
Numar. You leave it to me!"

The stewardess came hurrying toward
them. "Get back to your seats, please!"
she said. "And fasten your belts! We're
coming in for a landing!"

' I ^HE first to appear in the plane's door,
when it opened, was Betty. She looked
out at the line-up of police, flanked by
newspaper men, and bristled defiance.

"What a fine reception committee!" she
said.

"Betty!" cried a familiar voice.

Betty's eyes popped. "Harry!" she
shrieked and ran to his arms. "Where
have you been?"

"What's that man done to you?" said
Harry.

"Which one?" said Betty. She looked

THE GREEN MAN

153

around.

A frightened Mr. Alex and Mr. Schwartz
were dismounting from the plane.

"There he is again!" said Sam.

"He's going to kill somebody!" said Sid.

"You know which one!" Harry was
raving. "I'm going to murder him!"

"You hear that?" said Sid.

"I'll see you later," said Sam.

Professor and Mrs. Bailey had now left
the plane and Numar was standing in the
doorway. The police started for him but
Harry jumped ahead of them.

"I want first crack at that guy ! " he said.
"Let me at him!"

"Harry!" cried Betty. "Come back! You
mustn't!"

But Lieutenant Harry Hopper had not
risked his life and reputation for nothing.
He was going to get satisfaction or know
the reason why.

"Do not touch me!" said Numar.

"Don't touch you, eh?" said Harry, ad-
vancing up the steps to the plane. "You
come down out of that ship, you green
monster, you! I've got a nice little score
to settle!"

He took a swing at Numar. The blow was
aimed at the Green Man's cheek but some
invisible force seemed to repel it. It also
repelled Harry. He landed on his back on
the ground, rolled over and sat up.

"What happened?" he asked, dazedly.

"I told you not to touch him!" said
Betty.

The Chief of Police of Los Angeles and
his men had been stopped in their tracks.
They pulled their guns and covered Nu-
mar.

"No more of your funny business!" said
the Chief. "Or we'll shoot!" He turned
to the rest of the party. "Come on, folks,
you're all going to take a ride in the patrol
wagon. I'm going to find out just what
your connection is with this faker ! "

"The idea!" said Mrs. Bailey. "Us ride
in the patrol wagon! What a way to end
a fine trip like this!"

"I think it will be fun!" said Betty. "I've
always wanted to ride in a police car,
haven't you, Harry?"

Harry, at the moment, was holding his
head and staring at Numar. It is doubtful
if he heard the question.

"You can count me out," said Sam. "I've
got other business."

"That's strange," said Sid. "So have I!"

"Get moving, all of you!" ordered the

Chief. "There's the patrol wagon over
there." Then, turning to his men, "Ser-
geant, you ride down with them. "I'll fol-
low with the boys in my car."

"Okay, Chief," said the burly officer.
"Hey, you ! " he called out. "Where are you
birds going?"

"I'm going home," said Sam.

"I'm going with him," said Sid.

"You're getting in this wagon!" said the
Sergeant. "And no back-talk or I'll clip
your ears!"

"He means it," said Sam.

"He sure does," said Sid.

They tossed their grips on the floor of the
patrol wagon and climbed in.

"My!" said Mrs. Bailey. "I'm glad this
isn't happening in LaCanada ! What would
my neighbors say?' '

"It's an outrage! " said the Professor. "A
personage like Numar to be treated this
way!"

"Don't worry!" whispered Betty. "I've
got an idea!"

"Be careful!" warned the Professor.
"You're dealing with the law!"

"I'm ignorant of the law," said Betty.

'""THEY were all in the patrol wagon
which had a small open window in the
front and the back had no door. The seats
were along the sides. Numar sat up for-
ward., Betty placed herself next to him
and pulled Harry down beside her. Mr.
Alex, Mr. Schwartz, the Professor and Mr.
Bailey sat directly opposite. The Sergeant
was out talking to the driver.

"Yeah, we got the Green Man in there.
Strange crew with him, too. That pilot's
the only sensible one of the lot. The rest
are nuts!"

"Beats all how you can always get new
damn fools to join something, don't it?"
said the driver. "Take my wife, for in-
stance . . . !"

The Sergeant waved his hand. "You can
have her," he said. "I've got troubles
enough with my own! Let's get going!"
He sauntered around to the back of the
patrol wagon, stepped in and sat next to
Mrs. Bailey.

"Nice morning!" he chortled.

Mrs. Bailey eyed him. "What's nice
about it?" she said.

A siren sounded and the patrol wagon
moved off. Behind it, members of Numar's
party could see the Chief and fellow olucers
following in his car. Both machines swung

154

AMAZING STORIES

onto the main highway leading into down-
town Los Angeles.

"I hope they send this green guy up for
ninety-nine years!" said Harry, in a low
voice to Betty.

"Oh! You mustn't say that! " said Betty.
"Honestly, Harry, you've got him all wrong.
Didn't you feel what he did to you?"

"Yes," said Harry, glowering. "He
crossed me with a right!"

"Why, he never touched you!" said
Betty. "He didn't raise a finger. That was
his electric current!"

Harry put a hand to his head. "What a
wallop! I felt it all over! ... No! What
are you saying? . . . Electric current!"

"Yes," said Betty. "He kissed me with
it once. I can feel it yet!"

Harry stared at her. "I saw the pictures,"
he said. "Do you mean that was on the
level?"

"I was almost electrocuted," said Betty.

"You poor kid," said Harry. "I don't
see how you stood it!"

"Well, anyway," said Betty, "a man like
that isn't normal!"

"I'll say he's not normal!" said Harry.
"A man like that shouldn't be walking
around loose! I'd sooner grab a high ten-
sion wire."

The patrol wagon was doing a good forty
miles per hour on its way into the city.
The Sergearit, after his one effort to be
sociable with Mrs. Bailey, had folded his
arms and was staring straight ahead.

"I suppose I could go Mr. Numar's bail,"
the Professor was contemplating. "It's a
disgrace to think of him being locked up in
jail."

Nuiriar, himself, appeared to be impas-
sive. He was sitting, quietly, turbaned-
head slightly lowered, and green hands
folded in his lap.

Betty kept up her running fire barrage on
Harry. "So, you see, Harry — Mr. Numar
really isn't the kind of person you thought
at all. He doesn't belong on this earth and
we've got to help get him off of it, if we
can!"

Harry's interest was caught; he was
studying intently.

"Fat chance we've got!" he said, "with
him on the way to jail ! "

"That's just it!" said Betty. "We have
got a fat chance! Do you know something,
Harry? Mr. Numar can take that electric
current of his and shoot it out and stop an
automobile!"

"He can!" said Harry. "But what good
is that going to do him here?"

"You wait and see!" said Betty. She
turned to the Green Man. "Mr. Numar,"
she said. "I've got a plan. If you'll stop
the Chief's car and this car, I think we can
get away!"

Numar smiled. "I've been waiting for
you to suggest that!" he said.

HE LIFTED his head, purposefully.
Betty and Harry watched out the
back door of the patrol wagon. They saw
the Chief's car, which had been following
them at a good speed, slow down and stop.
At almost the same time, the motor of their
own car gave a sharp cough and died.

"What the hell?" said the Sergeant,
jumping out to investigate.

Harry stood up and looked out through
the little front window. "The driver's got
the hood up, checking the motor," he re-
ported.

"You see?" said Betty. "How simple it
was? . . . Look at the Chief and his men!
They can't figure out what's happened,
either!"

"Gosh!" said Harry. "What a secret
weapon!"

Betty grabbed him by the arm. "No,
Harry! You're our secret weapon! Quick!
Now's your chance! Run around and get
behind the wheel! Start the car up. . . !"

"But it won't go!" said Harry.

"It will go now," said Numar.

Harry grinned. "I get the picture! " he
said. "Where to?"

"I'll direct you! " said Numar. He stood
up beside the open window.

"Hurry!" cried Betty. "The Chief's
coming our way!"

Harry ran to the rear of the patrol
wagon, jumped off and dashed around the
side. The driver and the Sergeant had the
hood up and their heads under it, examin-
ing the motor. Harry jammed his foot on
the starter. The engine caught on with
a roar. The car leaped forward. Driver
and Sergeant jumped for their lives.

"What did I do!" moaned the driver.

"Hey, you!" yelled the Sergeant when
he saw the army pilot at the wheel. He
made a grab for the handle of the rear door
as the patrol wagon passed, and swung
onto the step. As he did so, he was met
by a determined middle-aged woman who
gave him a push. The Sergeant landed
smack on the seat of his pants in the mid-

THE GREEN MAN

155

die of the highway.

"Now, how did I ever do a thing like
that!" exclaimed Mrs. Bailey.

"I don't know," said the Professor, "but
I approve of it!"

"That's worth three hundred and twen-
ty-five a week!" said Sam. "She's a sec-
ond Marie Dressier!"

"My Baby isn't so bad! " said Sid. "She's
Scarlett O'Hara on wheels!"

Harry was feeding the patrol wagon
more and more gas and it was rapidly
' picking up speed.

"The Chief's stopped a taxi and they're
all piling in!" reported Betty.. "They're
coming after us!"

"Turn left at the next cross street!" di-
rected Numar.

TTARRY took the corner on three
* 1 wheels, running up over the curb and
leaving a shower of oranges in his wake
from a sidewalk fruit stand. Pedestrians
ran wildly for store fronts. The occupants
of the patrol wagon bounced around in-
side.

"Sorry!" said Harry. "I forgot where
I was. I've been trying to get this thing
off the ground!"

"Turn left again!" directed Numar.

Betty put hands to her eyes. "Oh! Slow
up, Harry! Look out for that building!"

Harry was sounding the siren continu-
ously and motorists were pulling to one
side to lei the police car pass.

"Must Toe a riot call!" said a spectator.

It appeared as though Harry's frenzied
chase of Numar and his party, from coast
to coast, had been for the primary purpose
of putting him in training for this maddest
of all rides. He needed no head starts or
stopped motors to keep him out in front.

Reaching the mountain road, Harry tore
up the increasing incline at only slightly
reduced speed. He took the patrol wagon
around the bends, sometimes appearing to
be on the very outer rim, with sheer drop-
offs beyond of a thousand to two thousand
feet, to the valley below.

"It's a good thing my heart's stopped
beating!" said Sid.

"It's a good thing I'm unconscious!"
said Sam.

Mrs. Bailey was holding on for dear
life. The Professor had lost his glasses
several times and had to grope for them
as they slid about on the weaving car
floor. Now he had them jammed in his

handkerchief pocket.

"William! Put your glasses on!" said
Mrs. Bailey. "You can't see where we're
going!"

"I don't want to!" said the Professor.
He had driven up this mountain road many
times, himself, enroute to Wilson Observa-
tory, but he was never destined to make
better speed this side of heaven

Harry delivered his human cargo, includ-
ing the escaping Numar, to the place di-
rected, without mishap. He jumped from
his seat behind the wheel and ran around
to the back in time to help his passengers
as they staggered out.

"Whew!" gasped Mrs. Bailey, her hat
on one side and looking otherwise dis-
heveled. "I'm glad that's over — but I
wouldn't have missed it for the world!"

Professor Bailey, next out, was looking
up at the mountain side. "Yes, Mr. Numar,
this is the spot where I left the road and
met you. My, it seems an eternity ago!"

Numar smiled. "Yet it is only a week
of your time," he said.

"Gosh!" said Harry. "I'm glad you
mentioned time. My leave is up tonight!"

"Oh, I can fix that!" said Betty. "I'll
phone your commander!"

"No, you won't!" said Harry. "I'm in a
bad enough jam now!"

Mr. Alex and Mr. Schwartz had de-
scended from the car and were looking
anxiously down the mountain road.

"No police in sight," said Sam.

"There's things worse than police!" said
Sid. "This ride, for one!"

"^TUMAR faced the members of his party.
^ * "I am grateful to you all," he said.
Then, turning to Betty and Harry, who
were standing with their arms around one
another, he added: "Some day, you will
tell your children about this occasion . . .
and they will tell their children . . ."

"Oh, Harry!" cried Betty. "Then,
we're going to be married!"

"I know that already," said Harry. "But
what's the Army going to do to me?"

Numar smiled. "You will be punished,"
he said. "Then sent overseas, to return a
hero. I see the President of this country
conferring a medal!"

"That's not my future! " moaned Harry.
"That's my past!"

"I must leave you now," said Numar.
"You are to remain here. But, if you will
fix your eyes above the trees around the

156

AMAZING STORIES

clearing, you will see my space ship as it
leaves this planet."

"Now, Nellie," said Professor Bailey, "I
want you to look sharp."

"It will just be a flash in your atmos-
phere," said Numar. "You will have to
watch closely."

"Won't we ever see you again?" asked
Betty.

Numar gave her a kindly look. "There
is an eternity of time ahead. Perhaps we
shall all meet again, somewhere."

"Jeez!" said Sam. "Look at my goose
pimples!"

"Those aren't goose pimples," said Sid.
"Those are eggs!"

Numar left the road and started toward
the clearing. He turned just once to smile
and lift a hand in farewell.

"You will think of me," he said, "when
the great light appears!"

The little group stood on the road by
the mountain side, looking breathlessly off
toward the clearing. Far below on the
highway could be heard the labored sound
of a taxicab motor. The Chief of Police of
Los Angeles and his officers were finally
arriving. But no one in the party was
paying any attention to them now. They
were watching the white-robed figure of the
Green Man as it grew smaller and smaller
and disappeared behind a fringe of trees.

There was a moment of indescribable
suspense. Then, suddenly, from up over
the clearing, there flashed what appeared
to be a blinding silver beam of light. It
shot toward them, at incredible speed, then
upward and out of sight.

"Gosh!" exclaimed Harry. "That was
something!"

"You see, Nellie!" said Professor Bailey.

"My eyes hurt," said Sam.

"That was worse than Klieg lights!"
said Sid.

The Chief and his officers came running
up.

"Where is he?" bellowed the Chief.
"What have you done with him?"

"He's gone!" cried Betty. "He just left
in his space ship! Oh, Chief— it was
wonderful! Didn't you see it?"

"No, I didn't," said the Chief. "And
you didn't, either!"

GOOD evening, ladies and gentlemen,
from border to border and coast to
coast and all the ships at sea," said Walter
Winchell, on Sunday night's broadcast.

"Let's go to press! . . . Flash! . . .

"Numar, the mysterious Green Man, has
been here and gone — taking his mystery
with him!

"In one of the most sensational escapes
in history, rivaling Houdini at his best,
Numar — seized by the Los Angeles police
chief and his aides — played some electrical
magic, stopped their automobile motors,
then intimidated or influenced a young fly-
ing lieutenant and his girl, riding with
him, to drive him to his moutain hide-out.
Members of Numar's party were found
later, in an hysterical condition, swearing
that they had seen the Green Man take
off in his space ship. Their word, how-
ever, is not to be trusted, after their har-
rowing experience.

"J. Edgar Hoover advised this reporter
that Numar definitely had something— just
what, he didn't know— but he couldn't be
finger-printed 1

"Little boy Walter also testifies that
Numar actually packed an electrical wal-
lop. But, when this Green Man predicted
to radio's biggest audience, yesterday, that
a great light would appear in the East, this
was something we could understand. He
was referring to a new, big advertising sign
on Broadway's Great White Way. This
light is apt to appear at any moment!

"And now, your reporter has a predic-
tion: One of these days, in the not too dis-
tant future, the Green Man will emerge
from his mountain retreat, expl%jn his ho-
cus-pocus to the world, and claim the
fabulous radio, stage and movie contracts
awaiting him!" .

WILLIAM! Oh, William!"
Professor Bailey stirred and sat
up, placing a hand to the back of his
throbbing head. He was cold and it was
pitch dark but he thought he had heard
his wife calling.
"Oh, William!"

Yes, that was his wife all right. But
where was he? Last thing he remembered,
he'd been listening to Walter Winchell.
The Professor got stiffly to his feet. Why,
he was outdoors on a mountain side! This
was strange — very strange!

"William! Answer me!"

"Yes, dear! Yoo hoo! I'm coming!,"

He stumbled forward, feeling his way
in the direction of her voice as she con-
tinued to call.

"I can't understand this," he mumbled

THE GREEN MAN

157

to himself. "My, things that have hap-
pened!"

His head was still reeling as he reached
the road. It reeled even more when Nellie
grabbed him and shook him.

"What do you mean, giving me a fright
like this? Where have you been? Why
didn't you answer?"

"You ought to know," said the Professor.
"You were with me. What a time we had!
. . . What a time!"

Mrs. Bailey eyed her husband, worriedly.

"What are you talking about? Did you
get to a telephone? Is someone coming
out to fix the car?"

"No," said the Professor. "That won't
be necessary. Numar stopped the motor.
It will start all right." He motioned to his
wife to get in the car and slipped in behind
the wheel.

"Numar? Who's Numar?" demanded
Mrs. Bailey.

The Professor put his foot on the starter.
There was a cough and the motor came to

During the years of 1928 to 1930, Prof. Boris
Tokin was directing some experimental research at
the Tomsk State University.

One day one of his co-workers stumbled across
a petri dish in which a small amount of macerated
onion had been placed. On close examination it
was discovered that this macerated onion had a
lethal effect on yeast cultures.

Prof. Tokin discovered that onions emit a vola-
tile obscure chemical substance that kills all types
of protozoa. He named this chemical phytoncide
and continued experimenting.

He used rabbits in his first experiment. His
method was to have them inhale this amazing sub-
stance for a period of time and then kill and dis-
sect them to find out what if any effect it had, and
found that the organs of the rabbits were normal.
In fact, the only trace this strange chemical left
was an acrid odor in the liver.

He then proceeded to wound white rats and in-
ject infected pus into the wounds. Then he ap-
plied onion paste and found that it killed the
germs contained in the pus and the rats healed
rapidly.

It was in 1940 that he proved that phytoncide
killed white straphytococci and streptococci as
well as the dreaded typhus germ.

In March, 1942, a sergeant was brought to the
hospital suffering from gunshot wounds. His leg
was amputated at the thigh and in spite of every-
thing that had been done the wound refused to
heal.

Prof. Tokin ordered an onion paste be wrapped

life.

"You see?" he said.

"Well, for pity's sake!" said his wife.
"Carburetor must have been choked, or
something. All this trouble and worry for
nothing!"

Professor Bailey drew a great sigh of
relief. "You don't know who Numar is?"
he asked.

"No," said Mrs. Bailey. "I never heard
of him."

"Never heard of him!" said the Profes-
sor. "Why you met him! He was a man
from another planet!"

"Oh, stop it!" said Mrs. Bailey. "Won't
you ever get that speech off your mind?
I'm frozen and tired and I want to get home
and get to bed!"

The Professor backed his car onto the
highway and they resumed their descent of
the mountain, while up above him— the
stars of the universe looked down — and
laughed!

THE END

in cloth and applied to the wound. After five
applications of the paste the wound began to heal
and in a short time completely healed.

In making his report of these experiments to the
All Union Institute of experimental medicine in
Moscow, Prof. Tokin said: "Since my discovery
of this strange volatile unknown chemical that
emanates from the onion, ancient medicinal rem-
edies used over thousands of years must now be
regarded in a new light instead of being discarded
as superstitious practice."

It is recorded that Cheops fed onions to his
slaves when they became sick while they were en-
gaged in building his great pyramid.

According to Pliny, onions and garlic were in-
vocated as Dieties and used in the taking of oaths
and other solemn occasions.

Galen, the most famous physician of the an-
cient world, gave an extremely long list of com-
plaints in which he considered the onion beneficial.

Morent Stuart Elphinstone, in his account of
the ancient Kingdom of Caubul, tells how the peo-
ple rubbed their lips and noses with onions to pro-
tect, them from the heat of the summer sun and
also to prevent suffering from the Simoon.

Dr. T. Sydenham considered both onions and
garlic a valuable application in confluent small
pox.

Cullen writing in Materia Medica 1789 reports
some dropsies cured by onions alone.

In the early days of blood transfusions, profes-
sional blood doners were advised to eat plenty of
onions. — Jack Sheridan.

THE ONION CURE

MORE SHADOWS OF ANCIENT INDIA

Our own native America is inextricably linked with ancient India
in a way that offers one of the great mysteries of mankind.

By L TAYLOR HANSEN

THE Shadow of Ancient India hovers over
the Americas in a most strange and per-
sistent manner. One runs against it in the
most unexpected times and places. Yet when one
begins to search for it, like the shadow which it is,
it becomes an evanescent thing and evaporates at
a touch.

Of all the totems which might be traceable to
India, that of the Monkey-god is the most sur-
prising because even the names seem t6 coincide.
Theodore Morde, of the Museum of the American
Indian of New York City, and leader of the Third
Honduran Expedition, writing in the American
Weekly for 1040, tells of finding a lost "City of
the Monkey-god" in the almost impassable jungles
of Central America, Not only was he shown this
ruined metropolis with its long avenue that led
to the great idol of the Monkey-god, but he wit-
nessed a feast of monkeys, by the present occu-
pants of the territory. These people considered
the spider-monkey which they called an "Uru," to
be a particular delicacy.

In his article, Dr. Morde does not go into any
details, other than the barest outline of this
strange and undeniably ritualistic orgy. He de-
scribes the gathering of the monkeys, and in par-
ticular the spider-monkey, which goes on for days.
Then the dead monkeys are impaled on sticks
which are placed in the ground so that they ap-
pear to be standing or sitting on a pole. A hot
fire is built about the foot of these small poles, and
when the heat becomes sufficient, the muscles of
the dead animals contract, causing them to dance
with the most gruesome contortions in the light
of the flames.

The student of Amerind lore, knowing that he is
dealing here in the mainland nearest the Antilles
with The Fire Totem, sees a whole historical se-
quence in this rite. "The Dance of the Dead Mon-
keys" as it is called, is certainly the triumph of
the "Sacred-fire" over the previous totem. Yet
this previous totem is not simply the monkey as
such, but the spider-monkey, which is termed by
the ancient name for the Spider Totem from the
South Seas through the Andes of South America
to the jungles, and from thence to our own South-
western Zuni Pueblo. Is it possible that the Spider
conquered a more ancient monkey-totem in Cen-

tral America, amalgamating the two totems in the
long-armed spider-monkey ?

Dr. Morde suggests that these previous people
may have been the Chorotegans. This is a par-
ticularly apt suggestion, since the Chorotegans
showed many cultural similarities to Chan-Chan,
such as the ritualistic beheading of females, while
their metal work seems to be secondary to Chan-
Chan, if indeed it is not the actual result of trade
with that metropolis.

In some ways the Chorotegans seem to be a
link between Chan-Chan and our Hopis. Both
have beautiful polychrome pottery; both have
similar styles for their women, and yet the Hopis,
being matriarchal, seem to be the cultural children
of a different totem than the patriarchal Spider.
Could this previous totem have been that of the
Monkey-god ?

Dr. Morde is fascinated by the similarity of the
totem of the Monkey-god with that of Ancient
India. He recalls the story for the reader that
Hanumaff, the Monkey-god, and early deity of the
India Ocean, carried Prince Rama and his beauti-
ful wife Sita away in his bosom to safety when
their land was attacked. Hanuman is pictured as
a giant monkey. Rama, we will remember, a leg-
endary emperor, along with his wife Sita, were
considered to be the father and the mother of
India.

Dr. Morde does not mention the fact that the
Incas had a "Raymi" as well as a "Situa" festival,
or that according to Guatemalan tradition, Father
Xchmel, an early deity, had two sons by Xtmana
(Itzmana?) who were known as Huncheran and
Hanavan. 1 Could the latter have been the Mon-
key-god Hanuman of India?

These India likenesses may, of course, be en-
tirely accidental. They are so few that they could
in no way conflict with the Law of Averages. Yet
there is another fact which may someday weigh
the balance of the scales so heavily that they will
tip toward connection. It cannot affect the situ-
ation today simply because of our ignorance of the
subject. That fact is language.

We are still so ignorant of the relation of Amer-
ind languages, that we cannot with any degree of

1 Bancroft. Native Races, Vol. 3, p. 74.

159

160

AMAZING STORIES

certainly compare the tongues of one hemisphere
with the other, much less attempt a discussion of
sources. However, Bancroft has noted a likeness
of the California Pomo with that of the Ancient
Malay. Taking as a basis, one hundred and seventy
common words, Bancroft finds that fifteen percent
are Malay while, the number that are similar to
Chinese and Japanese are so few that they can be
discarded as only accidental. (Bancroft, Native
Races, Vol. 3.)

COME of the language studies done in the Pacific
^ are most enlightening when compared with
this list of Bancroft. Marsden, for example, tak-
ing thirty five of the simplest and most common
Malayan words, finds that twenty will correspond
to Polynesian generally, seven with a small portion
of the dialects, and only seven remain peculiar to
the Malay itself. Taking the same list which
Marsden gave, the present writer found that al-
most all of them were identical with some dialect
of the Philippines, while a smaller number were
similar to some of the most archaic dialects of the
Japanese. For example, Kali the Black goddess
of Death has survived in Japanese as "koru" for
black, and "ika" for fish in Malayan and Poly-
nesian ("isda" in the Philippines and "iwa" in Java)
has survived only as the name of a particular fish
in Japan. Thus it is seen that Japan is much far-
ther from the ancient Malayan than the Philip-
pines. The Amerind tongues show about as much
likeness as Japanese, though not the same sur-
vivals. Chinook and Paiute, for example, show a
survival in the word for "sea" which also means
"chief," and is repeated again on the South Amer-
ican coast near Ancient Chan-Chan. One has a
suspicion that the entire substructure of the Pacific
may have been ancient Malayan, but the lack of
information upon the subject is abysmal.

Indeed the Malayan has entered the Mediter-
ranean Aryan tongues in a small degree. The
French "to eat" is a survival as may be the Latin-
derived English word "mangle" and Greek "man-
ganon" — a war-machine of the Malayan "macan"
("maa" in Java, and "mangan," "caon," as well as
"magan" in various dialects of the Phil.). In a
similar manner, our name of "boar" for the hog
seems to be a survival for this Malayan animal
whose original name was close to "buai" (Chinese
"buai," Japanese "buta," Polynesian "buaa" and
"buai" in the Philippines). Or the English "bat-
tery," "battle" derived from the Latin "battalia"
seems to be in turn derived from the Malayan
"matte" (Polynesian same) which has survived in
the Philippines under the more archaic ( ?) "bat-
tai"— meaning "to kill." Does not this seem to
point to the early substructure of the Mediter-
ranean also as Malayan, upon which the first
\ryan invaders borrowed many of their words,
and reared the later structures of Latin and Greek?
Quantities of research must be done, of course,
before we could be sure.

Sir William Jones, the distinguished orientalist,
is of the opinion that the Aryan Sanskrit is the

parent of both Malay and the Polynesian tongues,
but Dr. Leyden, whose knowledge of the Pacific
languages is perhaps more extensive than any
other, denies this idea. He points out that there
is no true Aryan in the South Seas. The Maori
were cut off from Malayan sources before the ad-
vent of the Aryan and the words which Jones
marked as Aryan are Malay-derived, borrowed by
the Aryan conquerors.

It may be only an accidental fact that the early
Malayans, who were described as brunettes with
light-brown skin, which blended to a reddish hue,
by the legends of India had black hair and eyes,
and were called Naga-Mayas. Yet the fact that
their legendary emperor Prince Maya, was known
as "The Great Architect" is curiously reminiscent
of Votan, who, we will remember, was of the
Serpent Totem.

Prince Maya, according to some of the ancient
stories, fled from the motherland which was being
disrupted by volcanic convulsion, and brought
with him a famous work upon astronomy. Nor is
this the point where the legendary likenesses be-
tween these people and Central America end. His
people, are supposed to have had animal totems.

ACCORDING to the Ramayana (Hippolyte
Fauche translation) the Mayas came to India
from the direction of the sunrise, and entered
Burma, later spreading to India and from thence
into the Mediterranean. In this- connection it is
significant that the Egyptians are considered to
have come from the east, and also that they car-
ried the name "ra" for the sun, which is not only
Malayan but also Polynesian, and was borne to
the outer circles of the Malayan language rings in
various degrees of mutilation.

The Ramayana goes On to tell of the Mayas
who later became known as the Dan-avas or the
Pan-avas — a people borne and bred of the sea,
whose fleets penetrated every corner of the oceanic
highways.

The Maha Bharata is one of the great Epics of
India which is usually considered to have been of
Aryan origin. Like Homer's Illiad, it may have
been, but its subject matter is reminiscent of the
struggle between the races which took place dur-
ing the millenium previous to its composition.

According to the Maha Bharata, a huge conflict
once took place between the Kurus, whose name
is suspiciously like those for the Aryan Spider, and
the Pan-Chatas. These latter were the five sons
of Pan-du, explains the epic. If Pan-du was the
Central-American and Mexican Pan-tu, could the
Pan-Chatas have had a distant connection with
the Pan-Chanes of Votan? Five of course, is one
of the so-called "magical" numbers of the Venus-
calendar. In the Mississippi Valley the "Magical
five" was continually symbolized by the Pentagon.

The main struggle, according to the Maha Bara-
ta, took place over the city of Hastinapur, which,
it is explained, means the capital of the "ocean-
dwellers." Where this legendary capital of the
Naga Mayas may have been, we do not know, or

SCIENTIFIC MYSTERIES

161

in this case, to be more exact, the Pan-Chatas.
Yet undoubtedly the Pan-Chatas were the Naga
Mayas who were over-run so long ago by the
"Urus" of the Kraken, or the Octopus-Spider with
twelve legs, that today they are but a persistent
legend, and until the spade of archaeologists proves
beyond a doubt the reverse, their science will con-
tinue t,o be thought of by the civilized world as
having been the sudden and brilliant initial inven-
tions of early Aryan India and Greece.

It is impossible to say, in the present state of
our knowledge, whether there was ever any con-
nection between these people and those of Central
America who also called themselves "Mayas." We
do not have the remotest proof as yet, that these
legends are anything other than interesting litera-
ture. Yet we do know that the name "Maya" is
today in the Brahman religion — The Spirit-of-
Evil. That is in itself a significant fact. It gives
science the strongest suspicions for believing that
it formerly held a power which the incoming re-

ligion feared most desperately. Could it be only
another coincidence that with Greek mythology,
"Maya" was one of Ocean's daughters?

In the present "stage of our ignorance," it is idle
to make any further speculations upon Peru, Cen-
tral America and Pre-Aryan India. And until
American Universities stop underwriting Mediter-
ranean excavation, and get busy upon India as
well as the almost "dark continent" as far as ar-
chaeology goes, of Ancient South America, we of
our generation can only suspend our judgment.

REFERENCES

Morde: American Weekly, Sept. 22, 1940. The
Languages and Literature of the Indo-Chinese
Nation, 10 th Volume of Dr. Ley dens Asiatic Re-
searches, Marsdens Malayan Dictionary.

Bancroft: Native Races, Vol. Ill, Languages.

Lang: Migrations of the Polynesian Nation.
The Ancient Bharata and the Ramayana of India.

Markham: The Ancient Incas.

THE OMNIPRESENCE OF MIND

By ALEXANDER BLADE

THE brain is the organ of coordination and
expression for the mind. But thought proc-
esses are rooted in the emotional balance
and in the "feeling tone" or mood influenced by
the interoceptive nerves which keep watch over
the condition of body fluids twenty-four hours a
day. The sum-total of these factors constitutes
"how you feel," which is of immediate social im-
portance, because you think, act and react in a
manner always relative to the way you feel.

Those powerful emotions which are negative
(but definitely!) such as anger, fear, hatred, lust,
desperation, etc. (and their milder states as vex-
ation, worry, sternness, greed, grief) are destruc-
tive of the body and the mind as well as their
synchronization. These feelings and emotions ex-
haust the endocrines, disturb the blood pressure,
poison the brain, and gradually wear out the entire
body through the circulatory system's breakdown.
The habitual practice of negativity often causes
stomach ulcers (precursors to some cancerous con-
ditions) indigestion, poor assimilation, constipa-
tion, heart trouble, impotency, poor tissue recov-
ery, pathological fatigue, insanity, etc.

Man believes what he wants to believe, thinks
as he wants to think, eats what he wants to eat,
and within the restrictions that experience and
makeup place upon him, does everything as he
wants to do it. "Desire" signifies the totality of
endocrine drive. It is the abstraction of all moti-
vation. So in a very real way the endocrine sys-
tem is an earlier thought-origin than the brain and
nervous system. It is a tremendously important
section of the mind of man.

But intelligence goes deeper than the endocrine
system. It is an attribute of the individual cell*

composing the endocrine glands. If one endocrine
gland is destroyed or harmed, the cells of another
frequently assume the responsibilities of the first
and often do quite a creditable job. The thyroid
seems to be the most versatile in this regard.

But mind goes much deeper than the endocrines.
Mentioning one of many, many similar physico-
mental processes, take the lymph system's mechan-
ism to recover red-corpuscles for circulation when
they are isolated in connection with wounds or
other tissue damage. A tunnel is run out to the
oxygen-wagons, and they are taken up by the
lymph. If engineering circumstances prevent their
rescue within two days, fighter cells are sent out
to dismantle the vehicles. (This process has been
photographed.)

Mind, however cannot be said to limit its func-
tions to the cell. In the virus, which seems to be
a self-propagating molecule, as are some of the
enzymes, is an example of substance which does
not have the attributes of what is recognized as
life.**

The wonder-fighters of the gamma-globulin of
the blood likewise manifest mind-power, adapt-
ability and propagation.

The finest men of history, the true students of
reality, regard inanimate matter as possessing
"mental" power.

Mind — is It all the organized, relational, har-
monic aspects of reality?

* For before man was the cell, the thinker, if
you will, which built the body of man. — Author.

** Cells do not figure in its composition.— Au-
thor.

WHAT MAN

MAGNETICS AND LIFE

AY back in the 1880's a certain great (or

rather very great) British physicist dem-

» * onstrated repeatedly that so called "sen-
sitives" are often able to locate magnets hidden
in various parts of a room in total darkness. These
people stoutly maintained that they "felt" the
vibrations from the magnet. The experiments de-
volved thus to a point where the subjective type
of evidence was the final, inescapable determinant.
A skeptic would find himself injecting the "foul
play" theory into the picture, except for the un-
assailable reputation of the physicist who con-
ducted the experiments.

The sun-spots affect the magnetic field of the
earth. Cyclical studies have shown that there is a
tendency for magnetic storms to repeat themselves
logically and sequentially with the earth's move-
ments. The peak periods of sun activity are defi-
nitely related to the cycle of wars and to the peak
activities of human beings.

To say that the field of the earth does not af-
fect the field of the sun in this regard, would be as
foolish as saying that there is no law of gravita-
tion. Furthermore, to say that the fields of all the
planets moving around the sun do not individually
and collectively influence the field of the sun,
would be just as odd.

Thus humanity dwells in a magnetic flux which
is constantly changing, and never twice repeats

As mentioned in an A.S. several issues back,
a certain learned treatise on neuro-pathology tells
of the stimulating effect of holding a magnet in
the left hand and a piece of carbon in the right
(graphite is by far the most dia-magnetic sub-
stance yet found). Holding the carbon in the
left hand for a few minutes has a sedative effect.
From the writer's own efforts to apprehend the
facts and the evidence accumulated by someone
else well-known to you, the carbon in the left
hand (without the magnet in the right) appears to
be beneficial if not overdone. The other way
seems to have irritative as well as stimulating ef-
fects, when the magnet is employed. The question
seems wide open as to whether the body has its
own magnetic field, subject to disturbances by
ferro-magnetism (the type possessed by the earth
as a whole) and augmented by the field character-
istic of carbon (if there is a field of that order
around carbon) .

John McCabe Moore

itself.

CAN IMAGINE

If you will imagine it, perhaps
someone will be inspired to do
it. This department is for your
ideas, no matter how "wild" they
may seem; who knows, they may
be the spur to some man's think-
ing and thereby change our des-
tiny! Tell us your thoughts.

The fact that there are persons sensitive to fields
of ferro-magnetism would not mean that they
alone are affected, but rather that they are either
gifted with more efficient neural equipment, finer
mental adjustment, or that their nerves are per-
haps over-sensitized by physical, chemical or men-
tal condition. The realization of an influence by
the few does not preclude the probability that all
men are affected without ever feeling the effects
subjectively. (Some sensitives have been confined
in asylums because they claimed to be in torture
caused by electric wiring. In this connection it is
worth-while remembering that current electricity
sets up a ferro-magnetic field around its con-
ductor.)

The vast flux of the magnetic fields of the plan-
ets, the moon and the sun, just as interdependent
as their gravitational fields, may well be one of the
most tremendous influences upon the mentality of
man that there is.

Felix Ehrenhaft's experiments with ferro-mag-
netism showed that there is a tendency for anions
and cations to take differential directions when
their solution is subjected to a strong field such as
a large alnico magnet has. Thus magnetism has
a direct chemical effect upon solutions of electro-
lytes such as the blood and the other body fluids.
Although this effect is either too uniform to be
noticed or to small to be reckoned ordinarily, it
is worthy of consideration if all influences on the
effectiveness of life are accorded their due.

The ancient Greeks remarked of natural pheno-
mena "Everything flows!" It is impossible to
take the logics of classical or modern physics and
prove that any type of energy is standing still with
the possible exception of potential chemical energy,
which is a component of electrons must itself be
in motion with the electrons as they vibrate, al-
though as far as the atoms are concerned it is
substance and cannot move except as the electrons

to which it is substituent change position. In a
very real sense therefore, this type of "potential"
energy is not energy at all but matter. So the
Greek thought is still of considerable import, and
the modulation and flow of gravity, magnetism,
electrics, sonics, light, heat, ultraviolet, radio, etc.,
permeates the entire environment of the race. Just
how important is ferro-magnetism and its opposi-
tional manifestation (dia-magnetism) in respect to
human life.— John McCabe Moore.

PI A A

MAN'S ABUSED MENTALITY
By

John McCabe Moore

KARL A. MENNINGER, the magnificent
practical medical scientist of the mentality
of man, often repeats that there is no such
thing as a normal mind. The reasons for this fact
can be lumped into the careless statement that
there can't be a normal mind because everyone
is different, and there is therefore no such thing
as a "norm" for mentality. As true as the state-
ment is it is careless and meaningless because "it is
too big a bite."

Dietarians, who look to food alone as being the
hope of the world, are prone to say, "We are what
we eat!" This is fearfully and wonderfully true.
It is a large enough statement that one can become

163

164

AMAZING STORIES

lost in its implications. But it is still unsatisfac-
tory and only part of the truth. Dietary practices
can cause whole nations to die out, empires to
topple, epidemics to rage, crime to flourish, in-
sanity to wax . . . true, but how much is left un-
said ! *

Well, let's look around a little, to see what makes
"mind" besides food.

Physical culturists say that "as a man exercises,
so shall his life-energies proliferate." This is
largely true. Exercise is usually indicated and
healthful, and for most people it broadens the
meaning of life. It gets the blood and the lymph
where it ought to get, it revitalizes areas that have
become stagnant. But Methuselah did not spend
his life on a rowing machine unless his family con-
cealed the facts. Certainly exercise has never been
shown to develop the creative powers of the hu-
man mind, and there is some reason, both chem-
ical and ' physical, to believe that it may occa-
sionally make the mind slovenly in general, es-
pecially if carried to the extreme.

Some pure-minded (if light-brained) humans
have occasionally maintained that they could sub-
sist without sustenance, indefinitely, by virtue of
their spiritual renewal. Some of them have done
quite well, like the Scotchman's horse, until they
"up and died." Carrel and other medical men
who happened to have vision were in agreement
that the power of faith and prayer exerts tre-
mendous influence in many circumstances where
nothing else works. Some of the Lourdes inci-
dents, the experiences of E. Stanley Jones and the
countless thousands of other purely subjectively
attested experiences of individuals in this connec-
tion if not "miraculous" should be called "out of
this world." And still the truth, as true as it may
be, does not touch the struggling millions. So
esotericism is a long way from being the whole
truth.

Mentalists often claim that by certain prac-
tices and mental exercises both the physical and
mental will be taken care of. "Mind over mat-
ter," they cry. And they are right and still abys-
mally incomplete in their reasoning. They would
have one fine time getting the brain to build a new
set of key cells in the liver or spleen, if those
cells had been destroyed by accident or alcohol!
They might increase the rate of metabolism by
concentrating on the thyroid gland, but they could
not manufacture needed iodine by brain-power.

Endocrinologists tend to believe that man is as
effective as his glandular balance. But they forget
to look for riboflavin deficiency, sub-acute pel-

* The average American gets three servings of
pork every year from a hog infected with trichi-
nosis. When your wife fried that last sausage
were you in too big a hurry? In these enlightened
United States you have two thousand times the
chance to get this unsatisfactory disease, as you
ivoidd have if you lived in Denmark, and three
times the chance you would have of getting it in
Canada. — Author.

lagra, or trichinosis. Some of them forget man
has a brain.

The abused mentality of mankind is still caught
in the toils of trying to find one thing to explain
all things. Sensationalism like this — ATOMIC
BOMB MAY BE END OF CANCER (yes if it
hits all of us at once) INSULIN SHOCK TO AR-
REST INSANITY, THIS WAR TO END ALL
WAR, TAKE THE SPIRITUAL WAY TO
POWER AND WEALTH. There are no pana-
ceas ! There is no faultless maxim ! ! No summa-
tion of truth will ever end the search for more
truth*

Man's conception of himself is only beginning to
be understood. In the last two years it has been
shown that poor spellers in grammar school form
a real habit of mispelling so many words per hun-
dred. They are convinced they can't spell and
they don't. Oftentimes they mispell a word on
one test and spell it correctly three tests later.
Arithmetic students considered "slow" by their
teachers become habitually poor calculators. These
things mean a great deal . . .

When a child is born of normal parents, who
have not been drunkards nor had syphilis, pro-
vided an important gene has not been damaged by
a cosmic ray, and the ancestors have been quite
normal for many generations, and provided the
mother has had the best of food balances during
the pre-natal period, that child has almost exactly
the same capacities and abilities as any other
similar child. Thus, if he is lucky, he is born "free
and equal."

Supposing the birth to be successful, this fine
mentality has tremendous hurdles to encounter be-
fore it "begins school." Even the finest parents
misunderstand oftentimes, and some even badger
and bully as soon as the child can see his hand in
front of his face. For his efforts to understand
and his inquiries he is laughed at or shushed.
When physical needs cause him troubles it may be
interpreted as obstinacy . . . Well, after six years
of misunderstandings, discouragements, insults and
punishments he is ready to "start his education."
About 70% satisfactorily nourished, if he is lucky,
he goes off to meet a teacher who is likely not as
intelligent as he, to be pressed into a mold. His
original thoughts and hopes are misunderstood and
laughed at, his creative impulses are discouraged,
and he is taught above all things to respect "au-
thority" without any explanation of what author-
ity should be. The personality of an infant and
the personality of an adult are often diametrical
opposites. The first six years of training set the
main part of our life's behaviour patterns! Can
anything be done to restore them to what they
were intended to be?

Andrew Salter, with no fancy letters behind his
name, lifted an illuminated piece of Arabian-nights
magic out of the Eastern Aryans' legacy and

*In 1832 the United States Patent office closed
because "everything had already been invented." —
Author.

WHAT MAN CAN IMAGINE .

165

forced it down the throats of Western psychology
and medicine (that is, the throats that had their
ears open) .

He has shown that hypnotism can change man-
nerisms and behaviour patterns, and even per-
sonality. Also that self-hypnosis is practical and
useful, and that one can renew one's mental self
by means of it.

Psychology has looked down its long and
crooked nose at the practice of hypnotism for a
cool century. But it can no longer be ignored.
Religion has tabooed it for hundred of years. It
is high time this important adjunctive tool became
recognized and used for what it is. If it is power-
ful (and it definitely is) most of its strength has
been sadly unexercised or actually abused for far
too long. Properly used it can be one of the in-
clined planes for the raising of man's mentality to
the uplands of real glory. — John McCabe Moore.

* * *

SUPERSONICS

By H. C. Goble

IN a previous article, the possibilities of time-
travel, or at least time-investigation, through
the use of ultra-sound waves was discussed,
also invisibility, translation to another vibrational
plane, and some deadly mundane effects that
would result from concentrations of supersonic
vibrations. But there are even more possibilities
to this untapped field of super-sound.

One of these mighty fields moves into another
department . . . that of straight electronics and
the field of ultra-high and ultra-low frequency.
The use of supersonic and subsonic waves as a
partner of electro-magnetic waves, may open up a
range untapped in the strictly electro-magnetic
spectrum.

How? Basically, quite simply. A sound wave
is a sine-wave pulsation, similar to the e.m. wave
superficially, a peak, a middle-point and a valley.
A sonic wave undergoes a change in intensity
through its cycle . . . which is the way that it
produces alterations in the vibration of a dia-
phragm to convert sound into electrical impulses
in a microphone.

Again, I'm limited by being unwilling to de-
scribe completely the original device for sonic
production, but what it boils down to, is that this
outfit can be used not only to produce sound
waves in all ranges, but by reversing the hook-up
can use the cyclical pattern of the sound wave
itself to produce a complete polarity change in d.c.
current, exactly duplicating the wave pattern of
each sound cycle. In other words, a note of 440
cycles per second (sonic) will produce an a.c. cur-
rent of 440 cycles per second (electronic) .

Now the original production of sonic waves by
the first hook-up is unrelated to the current cycle
entirely ... in other words, in order to produce
60,000,000 cps sonic it is not necessary to use 60,-
000,000 cycles per second electronic (a.c). The
sonic production is independent of the electric

cycle. And since the sonic range of this device is
nearly unlimited, this means that any cyclical
range "played back" into electrical impulses, will
be duplicated by its electromagnetic counterpart.

Translated into possibilities, this means that the
whole field of electro-magnetic wavelengths still
unexplored, becomes open . . . and this wave al-
teration proceeds from the same device no matter
whether you produce ultra-high, medium or ultra-
low frequencies. Every range marked "unknown"
in the e.m. spectrum is easily available, from the
short-shorts tentatively called "cosmic rays" all
down the line to the long-longs below commercial
radio frequencies by many thousands of kilocycles
. . . down to the bottom point I mentioned in
the previous article . . . that point where a wave
must reach infinite length, infinite height, and in-
finite lack of momentum.

And while a sonic wave cannot be of infinite
length, because it depends on a material carrier
(air or a conducting solid) this is not true of an
e.m. wave, as recent lunar radar experiments
proved. The best sonic wave could do is to stay
within the earths atmosphere and warp itself
around the globe an infinite number of times . . .
not a very constructive concept. And yet, since
the infinite length is possible for a sound wave,
even under such restricted conditions, it can be
used to produce its electromagnetic counterpart,
which suffers no such spatial limitations.

Vision for yourself what the device may mean
... a simple, standard unit which can transmit
radiations of any electro-magnetic range ... in-
cluding radar, ham-frequencies, commercial fre-
quencies, and a whole bag of as yet unknown fre-
quencies.

Why not the wave-length of the human mind
... a proven wave of electromagnetic origin. It
might be possible to use the mind wave length as
a modulated carrier, and broadcast directly to that
obscure receiver in the human brain that makes
occasional telepathy possible.

Space and time would hold few mysteries if the
whole wave-band were revealed thus.

Intricacies of antenna for transmitting such a
varied range is something else again ... it may
be a bug that only an engineer can iron out. I
only know that creation of such cyclical currents
is entirely possible with a single unit, and the use
of the principle could alter the entire field of
wave-technology, eliminating the thousand and
one types of electronic producers, with a multi-
tude of chokes, coils, condensers, resistors, diodes,
triodes, pentodes, one type for one wave band,
another equally complicated rig for a wave band
slightly out of reach of the first ... all the vast
mumbo-jumbo of the radio-technician would be
thrown out of the window. Multi-phase f requen-
cies of a remarkable sort are possible too, for your
cycle change will follow exactly the sound pulsa-
tions fed into the machine as a control or pattern.
Picture the transmitted wave a complex pattern
like "Shostakovich's Fifth Symphony" would con-
vert into if it Were used directly to control polarity
cycles.

STATIC WAS LICKED

TWENTY YEARS AGO

H. C. Hefferlin

FOR many years, in fact since the advent or
beginning of "Wireless" now grown up into
our modern versions and adaptations called
Radio, Television, etc., one problem (an interna-
tional subject and headache to all listeners) has
been and still is "atmospherics," commonly called
Static.

When we say "atmospherics" we are speaking
mainly in regard to the familiar crashes, sputters,
etc., during summer and storm periods accom-
panied by lightning and other natural movements
of the frictionally generated electricity.

The devices and circuits and other attempts at
control of this type of "static" are legion in number
as all engineers, experimenters and "old timers"
well know, and volumes have been written relative
to the subject and many theories advanced as to
its nature. In this article we are discussing this
static as it applies to Radio transmission and re-
ception.

. To begin with : We will state that for all ordi-
nary purposes there are three well-known means
of transferring electrical energy from one place to
another, namely:- — direct connection or conduc-
tion, induction, and capacity. These three are in
common use in different combinations throughout
all electrical usages and are quite familiar to all
of us. But some would say that any movement of
electricity must be one of the three. This we dis-
pute and will show our reasons as far as ma-
chinery or apparatus is concerned, especially rela-
tive to static in radio.

To any one who has studied Physics we can
refer them to the section in electro-statics and
electrical distribution, "The electrical charge of a
conductor is confined to its outer surface. The
distribution of the charge is, therefore, affected by
the shape of the conductor, the surface density
being greater the greater the curvature."

"Action of Points: By holding a lighted candle
near to the pointed end of a rod attached to an
electrical machine the candle flame will be blown
away as by a stiff breeze. The experiment shows
that an electrical charge is carried off by pointed
conductors. The air particles touching the point
become heavily charged and are then repelled;
other particles take their place and are in turn
repelled and form an electrical wind." Quotations
are from FIRST PRINCIPLES OF PHYSICS, by
Henry S. Carhart and Horatio N. Chute, Copy-
right 1912, Chapter XI, Pages 300 and 301.

Now this section just quoted lays out the theory
of action of one phase of electrical distribution not

used in common practice. As to the application
of sharp point or edge leakage of H. F. (High
Frequency) relative to static elimination we will
show wherein this applies and is used.

But first we will study the nature of static itself,
with further quotations from the same book, Page
313. "Franklin in 1752 demonstrated lightning is
identical with the electric spark. Leyden jars
could be charged and other effects characteristic
of static electrification could be produced."

Further experimentation and analysis shows that
it is of a D. C. (direct current) nature and of slug
characteristics. When we use the term "slug" we
wish to show the difference between a fast moving
or High Frequency current, and a slow moving
current; that is the only reason. It is this differ-
ence that counts in what we are about to discuss.

Difference in potential or pressure and opposite
polarity charges are two reasons of static charge
movements. Think of a cloud of vapor at one
potential charge, the earth at the opposite polarity
and perhaps at times Zero potential.

Now with this difference in polarity and poten-
tial values, static potential follows a natural law
to attempt to equalize or balance itself. When
given a metallic conductor as an easier path than
air, we will have a current flow, as previously
stated, of a D. C. nature in "slug" or interrupted
sequence. This interrupted D. C. or slug passing
through the primary coil of the antenna induces by
induction a duplicate current action through the
secondary coil; in capacity connection an oppo-
site polarity on plate of condenser leading into set.

Radio waves are of a high frequency nature
even if the potential antenna charge is only one-
one millionth of a volt.

\1TITH this past discussion as a partial back-
' " ground then we may proceed further. Let's
furnish an easy path for the D. C. current and
hold back the high frequency current as a major
operation.

This can be done quite easily up to a given
place, but the absolute separation of the two dis-
tinct types of current is the joker and necessitated
the use of the above principles of point or edge
leakage.

The early experiments following the needle point
theory were conducted by using Epsom Salts
boxes and about 300 bank pins pushed through
the wall of the box and pointing to a common
center, this center being first a wire ; then later
replaced by a copper tube with outer surface in-

166

STATIC WAS LICKED TWENTY YEARS AGO

167

sulated and a binding post soldered to one end of
the tube. All pin points were brought to surface
contact of insulation on copper tube. Around the
outside surface of the Epsom Salts box, through
which the pins had been pushed leaving the heads
of the pins showing, metal foil was wrapped so
as to make contact with these pin beads for cur-
rent passages.

Insulated from, but wrapped around this outer
surface was wound about 61 turns of No. 22 wire.
The outside antenna wire was connected to one
end of No. 22 wire coil and ground wire was con-
nected to the coil's opposite end. A short wire
from the radio set's antenna post was connected
to the binding post that had been soldered on one
end of the insulated copper tube used in center of
device as just previously mentioned.

The first tests were conducted on a standard
five-tube battery-operated set in a corner store
and bus depot located in El Cerrito, opposite the
Richmond Annex, several blocks from the county
line, about one mile north of Albany, California,
first town north of Berkeley.

The store faced on San Pablo Avenue, and an
electrical "feeder line" for the power company ran
along San Pablo Avenue. At the store corner a
sub-feeder line made junction, all overhead wires
on wooden poles. Our original purpose was to
block off high line leakage noise in order that the
KGO station on East Fourteenth Street in Oak-
land carrying the ball games program, could be
heard and the scores.

Next another unit was made and the two out-
side coils as previously stated above, were con-
nected end to end and the regular ground was
disconnected from set and fastened to the oppo-
site end of the coils from the outside antenna, and
a short wire fastened to the radio set ground post,
the other end fastened to binding post of the cen-
ter insulated tube of second unit. Results were
perfect reception at all times, but fully 50% drop
in volume. So the headache was, Where had the
volume gone?

As crude as this beginning was it pointed out
that we were on the right track, so began over a
year's steady "try and cut" and theory.

Edge leakage was tried out by cementing "gold
leaf" to smooth fiber "poker chips," and a special
tool with a circular cutting edge used to cut a
circular cut, so as to separate the "gold leaf" sur-
face into two sections, edge to edge, with a slight
separation between the cut edges.

A hole was drilled in the center of each disc
and these discs were strung on a threaded brass
rod about 30 at a time, the center rod in contact
with the center leaf surface. The outer surface
of the gold leaf on each disc ready for outside con-
tact by the now usual metal foil outside wrapper,
as used in the pin type unit.

The discs were coated with cement and' squeezed
together by two small washers and nuts, one at
each end of brass rod. Then the usual outside
wrapper of metal foil was placed around the out-
side edge of the discs to make contact with the

outside edge of the outer gold leaf surface. About
No. 32 wire was wound around this outside of
metal foil surface, with insulation between.

The signals came through with more volume
than the standard hookup of regular aerial and
ground. But some static came through also!

One thing was found to advantage, that any
radio set tried out with the disc units developed
extreme selectivity, as the set could only tune the
length of wire between the radio and the center
brass rod connection on the disc unit. The same
selectivity applied to the pin type units, also.

You will note that care was taken on the con-
struction so as to reduce capacity (condenser) ac-
tion to an absolute minimum by maintaining either
a 90 degree or 180 degree angle between important
surfaces. Much was learned as to the actions of
both types of units, and they and their later de-
velopments were tested at radio dealers and fac-
tories, and in residential sections in Berkeley, Oak-
land and San Francisco, beginning in the summer
of 1926 and continuing through into March of
1928.

TN LATE 1927 the next development of the point

leakage type was instituted, and a machine was
crudely constructed to weave a No. 40 wire hori-
zontally back and forth, across a rotating form
holding 32 brass rods at its outer edge, perpendic-
ular to the wire pattern. 1000 layers of wire were
thus laid across a common center and separated
from each other at the center. Melted sulphur was
poured into a form surrounding the upright rods,
locking all wires into a fixed position.

Then one difficulty showed up at once : Sulphur,
upon crystallizing, pulled away at the center!

By quite a bit of maneuvering this was some-
what overcome, but very haphazardly, and twelve
units were constructed. Then these forms were
drilled in the Center so as to cut all layers of wire,
1000 in number in this case, giving 2000 wire ends
as fine as needle points in the center; then an in-
sulated copper tube was put through the center.

In contact with the brass upright rods, around
which the No. 40 wire had been held, the usual tin
foil was wrapped, and about 61 turns of No. 22
insulated wire was wound in coil formation. Two
of these units were placed into a fiber tube, coils
connected end to end, and connection made from
opposite ends of coils to binding posts on shell of
fiber tube, one for antenna, the other for ground.
Binding posts also were as usual on one end of
center copper tubes, one for the radio's antenna
post and the other for the radio's ground post
wires. (NOTE: Molten glass would have solved
the sulphur headache, but to drill through 5 inches
of glass? Well, try it some time!) The wires
must be held by a good dialectric that has a hard-
ness on drilling that is equal to or more than, the
hardness of No. 40 copper wire.

Extreme care must be exercised, because if one
of those 2000 wire ends makes contact with the
insulated center copper tube, everything, static
and all, comes into the radio. Too thick a coat of

168

AMAZING STORIES

insulation at center tube or electrode, and away
goes the volume of the set.

Well, now we know where that darned volume
went I

Out of the 12 single units, two showed up clear,
no point to center electrode contacts. These two
were put together end to end in the fiber tube for
the dual operation and tests began. (Pray for us,
brother!)

Any results?

And How!

About 98% clearing action of all outside noises,
and about 10% drop in volume on distant sta-
tions. And remember this, — a S-tube Neutro-dyne
or regenerative was the limit in those days. Su-
perheterodynes were not standard yet and quite
freakish in operation. Electric current (A. C.)
radios? The industry was just feeling its way out,
and what few showed were tricky and bad in most
cases.

Only one place in the construction is critical
and that requires the utmost precision. And the

units are almost indestructible, the outside wire
coils can be easily replaced. The core cannot be
opened up without destroying it.

With modern plastics we may expect assembly
line construction and even better results than we
had.

Its first and primary use would be for long
wave, commercial, ship to ship, and ship to shore,
short wave and broadcast bands. With certain
changes even Television !

In radio construction good "magnetic shielding
bonded correctly, and we don't mean "electro-
static" shielding as is used today in radio con-
struction, with the perfected static units, can pro-
duce for the radio listener — well, just imagine full-
toned reception with no crashes and bangs, clear
and as distinct as a "crystal upon a black velvet
background." Yes, we have heard it, and it is
truly a "Gift of the Gods."

So, now you know the secret of how Static was
licked about twenty years ago. But we do know
that not yet will it be on the "late fall models."

10,000 YEARS OF DREAMS

By John McCabe Moore

THE dark curls and the dark eyes of the
little Spaniard glimmered under the fluore-
scents as he ran to throw the final switch.
The little iris standing in the rapidly playing col-
ored light must not die. This combination had to
be right.

The transformer changed pitch until the low
hum passed the range of audibility. The ammeter
still showed an almost immeasurable flow of cur-
rent.

"You see, Diaz," said Dr. Vega, smoothing his
tousled hair, "the interplay of energies has been
one of the usual order of changes of energy pat-
terns involved in the process of photosynthesis.
These energies, however, have been reversed in
their order, after the regular pattern was em-
ployed, the process being so rapidly reversed that
the plant's chemique has adapted itself to ana-
bolism-catabolism equilibrium. To make sure that
this equilibrium is permanently set up the reversal
is carried on ten-thousand times every three-and-
one-half minutes. At the conclusion of six hours
of such chemique-reversing the process is cut off
at the point of anabolic ending energy. The switch
I just threw over there cut off the ray-activators
of the plant's processes, simultaneously cutting in
a flood of very, very simple energy. If the plant
now accepts this energy as its cell-activator, it
should be able to secure enough of the same form
of energy from all but the most unusual of en-
vironments. With its cell-selectivity refined and
accelerated by the equivalent of hundreds of lives,
its chemique purified of the dross, it should be
capable of resisting destruction by anything less
than fire or deliberate dismemberment."

I, little bearded Diaz Martinez, swear by every
blue hair on my chin that I believed the man no

longer responsible. But I was there for the Ar-
gentine government, so I silenced the questions
blundering up my throat, held my breath, and
watched.

"Now!" he said, pulling the master switch. (He
moves with the speed of a frightened burro at all
times, but in my state of tension, I nearly leapt
over the hydroponics tank before me.) "If this
plant does not show signs of wilting within the
hour, we can consider that life has entered a new
epoch!"

Father and mother of a name of a name ! That
hour was longer than my first twenty years ! Dr.
Vega remained with a look fixed upon that blue
iris that so transfigured himself that I often won-
der whether the plant was not also transfigured.
Almost I thought his own trunk had grown roots.

At the end of the time the wizard brown hands
pulled a leaf from the plant. A little hot plate
adjusted to low heat was turned on, and the Doc-
tor, as though it was his own body he laid there,
put the leaf on the magnesium sheet that lay on
the coils, and left it there a full half-hour.

"You see, amigo, that leaf will not die ! It does
not wilt because it can not wilt!"

It is three days now, since I laid my finger
against that hot plate, and by St. Peter's long
white hair, I still carry the blister.

For seven long weeks have I watched the com-
iAgs and goings of that black-eyed magician. "So
nothing will happen to him," they told me when I
stepped toward the door of the National Office of
the Argentina Government Operatives. Name of
the fallen angel! I have seen the brown leaf that
the fall of an orange would crush to powder take
on the color of spring and turn its face to the
light. — John McCabe Moore.

DISCUSSIONS

Amazing Stories will publish in each issue a selection of letters from readers.
Everybody is welcome to contribute. Bouquets and brickbats will have
an equal chance. Inter-reader correspondence and controversy will be encour-
aged through this department. Get in with the gang and have your say.

mmmmmm mmmmmwfmm mmmm m mm m m m mm »m

PAGING JOHN EDWARD BESIG

Sirs :

We are trying to locate an old army buddie
of my husband and have very little to go on.
The three of us are regular readers of Amazing
Stories, and there is an excellent chance we may
locate him through the pages of the magazine in
"Discussions" if you kindly permit the publication
of this letter; for which we will be very grateful.

John Edward Besig: if you should see this let-
ter, please write us at once. We have important
business to discuss with you.
With sincere thanks to Amazing Stories.

Mr. and Mrs. Peter Patana,
241 Cedar Street,
Biloxi, Miss.

LETTER FROM A DERO?

Sirs :

A few weeks ago while I was working late at
night in my office the door opened and a man
walked in.

"Here, Scoles, you read Amazing. Copy this
and send it to the editor. Copy it, I tell you,
keep the original. Copy it now !" He threw some
flimsy sheets of paper on my desk, turned, and
was gone before I could open my mouth.

You will find one of the two copies I made
that night attached.

The two copies and the original flimsy sheets I
threw into the desk drawer and slammed it shut
going on about my work. Two hours later, it
must have been nearing midnight, I finished the
brief I had in my typer and turned to my desk.
As I turned I saw a light smoke or mist coming
from the closed drawer where I had thrown the
stranger's manuscript and the copies. I pulled
at the handle, but the drawer was jammed. I
worked at it to no avail. More vapor came from
the drawer and fearing it was on fire I hurried
into the next room, found a screwdriver and re-
turned intending to pry the drawer open. It lay
open before me. The copies I had made lay
there. The flimsy sheets were gone. With no
proof I hesitated to send you the copy. You
may print it, throw it in the wastebasket or put
it to any other use that might interest you and
this letter as well.

David L. Scoles
Box 4825

San Juan 24, P. R.

It is time we had a little understanding about
our friend Shaver. His first articles, while not
giving an accurate history of the elder race and
the growth of Dero, were interesting and harm-
less while giving a fair picture of the life of that
glorious race before it fled from the results of
the fatal flaw in its makeup. Lately Shaver has
been branching out into a sort of hysterical at-
tempt to picture Dero in the foulest manner pos-
sible. He has even convinced a few gullible inno-
cents that Dero is a danger to the future of the
human race. It is time to look at the other side
of the shield, to hear the other side of the story.
Shaver has believed himself safe from exposure
knowing that the full truth cannot yet be told.
The human race is still too close to simian an-
cestors. It has yet a long way to go before it
can choose, as did the Elder Race, whether to use
Dero as a ladder to further glories or, as they did,
break under its awful exactions and flee to softer
galaxies. He has expressed a fear for his own
safety and claims, I understand, to have been im-
prisoned once and to have suffered tortures at
the hands of Dero. If he does not admit it he
well may. There is much garbled truth in what
he says, but much that is a misleading distortion
of the really beneficial position of Dero in our
race history. It never occurred to him that part
of the truth might be revealed, enough of it to
set at rest the fears of those who have been
carried away by his mistaken eloquence. To tell
as much of that truth as the human race can at
present stomach now becomes my duty.

I am dero. I am a part of Dero, therefore I am
"of Dero." What I say, I say as Dero and by
the authority of Dero. This Shaver will know
by certain signs known to him in my writing. He
should know. Shaver is dero, more he is rene-
gade dero. As such he may serve a purpose, for
who among us, even the most initiate of Dero,
can know the ultimate aim of The High Ones
who created Dero to test the Elder race, to save
it if possible, and if not to drive it out of the
path of the rising human race then so far down
the ladder as to be recognizable only to them?
But such is Dero that though he may serve his
purpose I am called on to reveal him to you in
his true light. He is dero, but being renegade, no
longer of Dero. He lost that high state and he
was high in our ranks when he broke from tem-

169

170

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porary confinement, a spiritual thing only, but
all the more terrifying, and fled to the uninitiated
world to begin his one man campaign to upset
the will of those High Ones before whom the
Elder race themselves were but as children. Let
him tell, if he will, why he was imprisoned, how
he refused the awful ordeal of rehabilitation and
how he was stripped of his dread powers and
cast out of Dero.

The Elder Race did not evolve. It was cre-
ated out of hand by The High Ones to serve
Their own inscrutable but infinitely noble aims.
The Elder race was in the nature of an experi-
ment. It was created in the image of The High
Ones and would in time have risen to Their level
had it not failed when the time of testing of the
experiment came. Read the story of creation in
Genesis. Well might it be a Shaver account of
what truly occurred, so little of the truth does
it reveal and yet so singularly does it half tell the
tale. The Elder race, not we humans, are por-
trayed by Adam and Eve. All was theirs. The
High Ones gave them paradise much as Shaver
described it. They were much as he pictured
them. Noble and glorious, ageless and free from
disease or deformity. But they were pleasure lov-
ing to a fault and what a fault it became. They
turned from the pursuit of the path toward The
High Ones to seek after greater delights, more ex-
travagant pleasures. This The High Ones foresaw
and Dero came into being. Dero the mystic, the
good in evil, the whip, the scourge, the pain by
which intelligence is spurred on to greater en-
deavor, the adversity that causes the mind to
aspire to rise above it, the sorrow that looks for
comfort, the dark valley beyond which lies the
sunlit heights, the goad to drive the Elder race
from its abandoned ease and back to the steep-
ening path to what lies beyond the stars. Genesis
tells you, and Shaver, in other words, has told
you the result but neither truly, neither accu-
rately. The Elder race had not the iron necessary
to withstand and fight back. That was the ex-
periment. Given a race already created with no
age long background of struggle up from the
abysmal animal depths, given a race endowed
potentially with all the attributes of The High
Ones Themselves, with all its nobility and god-
likeness but lacking the stern qualities that
brought even The High Ones up from some un-
known depth countless ages past, could the last
steep climb he made? Could the process of be-
coming one with The High Ones be shortened by
countless Eons? If that experiment succeeded, who
knows perhaps They dreamed of creating others
like themselves without the period of trail. Perhaps
they were lonely. Perhaps there was work to be
done and more strength was needed. Perhaps even
the Elder Race could not have understood The
High Ones' plan and purpose had it all been re-
vealed. Bootless it is for us to attempt it who
have yet far to go to the level of the Elder Race. ,
Suffice it to say that according to Genesis the

DISCUSSIONS

171

Elder Race (represented in biblical history by
Adam and Eve) was driven out of the garden.
According to Shaver they fled from Dero, an
evil principle resulting from the aging of a sun.
Actually they failed the test and fled to a galaxy
where they could live out their time, now drawing
to a close, in pursuit of joy, nothing more. The
principle of Dero, once created, remained.

Dero remained to spur the human race to
heights beyond its own imagining. Up from the
slime of the ocean depth we came to crawl in the
mud, out upon the plain, to skulk in the forest,
to take to the trees, later to descend furtively
and with shambling gait peering with deep set
tortured eyes from beneath shaggy beetling brows.
Stinking, roaring, brawling we forced ourselves up
on our hind legs, discovered our thumbs, made
tools and weapons, heard thunder and looking to
the sky whence it came there, in the clearing light,
found beauty and strove for it, strove till today
we stand masters of a planet and masters of de-
struction, lovers of beauty, seekers after truth, but
with all still brutes but a step removed from
savagery, gazing toward heights we can but dimly
see in our dreams yet somehow knowing that
other heights lie yet beyond. Did we come
willingly, did we come knowingly, did we come
joyously along some pleasure path? You know.
We came howling and cursing under the bludgeon-
ing of Dero, resisting every step, plunging back
at every chance, protesting, rebelling, defying the
force that drove us, yet we came and grew
stronger and braver, more noble every step of
the path. Now you know something of Dero.

For the future ? Who am I, even of the initiate
of Dero to try to read the will of The High Ones
or dare to dream of a HIGHER ONE? Yet
there it is. Study it and grow wise. Are we
another experiment? Were the Elder race indeed
an experiment or a test foredoomed, and know-
ingly so, to failure? Did some race nearing or
passing the level of that Elder race need the
example of failure to teach that only by one road
may the heights be reached and that not the
sunny path of dalliance? Could we be another
such laboratory experiment foredoomed to failure
to show some other and impatient race more
noble than ourselves just how much the seeking
soul can suffer and not lose hope ? Is our destiny
the stars or in the broken test tube? Ask The
High Ones? Nor they nor THAT ONE so far
beyond will answer. We must seek and find that
answer for ourselves. When we lag along the
path Dero will goad us on. There will be no
rest for this race. It is not in our plan.

Who are Dero? Look about you. Perhaps
your neighbor, perhaps your brother, your em-
ployer, your business associate, your employee.
Perhaps they know they are dero and therefore
are of Dero. Perhaps they serve unknowing. For
every Attilla, every Caesar, every Hitler, all dero,
for every Buddha, every Ghandi, every Jesus of

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Nazareth, all of Dero, millions do their work and
pass on unknown and unknowing. Dero scourges
and cleanses. Dero then furnishes surcease. Some-
times we refuse the relief and it is all to be done
over. Dero built up the Japanese race into a
brutal bestial unthinking machine. Dero brought
cleansing suffering to countless thousands that
Japan might pass from her unholy power. From
the suffering will come, has already come, nobility
and strength of purpose that more than compen-
sate. Think of a man whose life has been de-
voted to the pursuit of war, whose word has
sent hundreds of thousands to slaughter millions
in defense of an ideal he did not dream he pos-
sessed till the time came for Dero to reveal it to
him. Then see that man astride the necks of a
conquered race, that man a warrior trained from
boyhood in a warriors' family, see that man head
of the world's greatest nation and pledge his re-
maining active years to the task of making what
was a brutal bestial unthinking machine into a
living demonstration that a people can renounce
war and live and grow. Not renounce struggle,
not renounce Dero but advance to where struggle
shall be against man's enemies and not against
man. That is one example of Dero, but by an
unknowing dero by the way, from our own
generation. I say again look about you.

Now as to Shaver's rather laughable caverns,
why should we heed caverns when we are well
hidden among you, when so many of us are you
and you are we? With the black death, the
white plague, the yellow fever, the flu of 1918,
about to return again by the way, that much of
a prophecy I am allowed, the atomic bomb, syphi-
lis, Dachau, just to mention a few of the scorion
whips we have laid on you when you most needed
it. The horrors the human race has known are
nothing to what faces it, the stronger it becomes
the more it can stand and must. The way to the
level of the Elder race is still long and arduous,
from there to brotherhood with The High Ones
is where the path really grows steep. Can the
human race as a whole take it? Shaver couldn't.

deroPan.

of Dero.

This letter comes from David L. Scales, who
is Department Vice Commander, American Le*
gion, Department of Puerto Rico. We said we'd
print a letter from a dero, and Mr. Scoles seems
to have received one which he forwarded to us.
So we print it — but quite frankly, we don't believe
a word of it. It makes some sense, because most
people have to be kicked in the fanny to make
them do anything, but that's as far as it goes. As
for Shaver being a dero himself, that's a laugh.
Anyway, Mr. deroPan says he's a dero, and he
says dero do not do anybody any good turns, ex-
cept maybe kicking them in the teeth, so let's not
accept his own word that he's giving us the
"straight" dope!— Ed

DISCUSSIONS

HE DOESN'T HEAR VOICES!

Sirs:

I am just discovering what a freak I am. 1
don't hear voices, I don't have strange memories,
and I am not taking sides as most of your fans
are. The only thing I have in common with
them is that I like Amazing Stories.

Couldn't you please brint those pictures you
have of the ray in Mr. Shaver's bedroom? And
what became of that guy with the super-heavy
meteorite that could have been a space ship?

Wallace Weber
1423 W. 11th Ave.
Spokane 9, Wash.

Glad you don't hear voices, and also glad you
DO like Amazing Stories. As for the picture, it
is a very bad one, and it would reproduce even
worse on our pulp paper. But we'll see ij we can
get a better print, and make a printable plate out
of it. But it won't prove a thing. We've got to
have better proof than that to present. As for
the super-heavy meteorite, there's something we're
still tracking down. To date, we'd say it was bald
fiction. But there's a matter of locating some let-
ters by VC which have mysteriously vanished
from our office — after which we'll print Mr. VG's
address UNLESS he'll send in another letter when
he sees this? — Ed.

AN INVESTIGATOR REPORTS

Sirs:

I have just returned from a two weeks stay in
Weed, one of the towns which is about as near
as you can get to Mt. Shasta. The people in a
small town are odd. I don't think you can crash
them on a first entry. At least, I found this to
be true, and I make friends very easily. I bided
my time, and let them make the advances. Even
after they took me in, I found most of them re-
luctant to talk about their 'mountain people.'
Most of them apparently take little stock in the
tales which are circulated. Some of them laugh,
but I'm wondering if there mightn't be a few
who know things they just don't want to talk
about. Maybe they've had follow up experiences
after divulging previous occurrences. Your guess
is as good as mine on this score.

I think I covered the town as well as anyone
in my position could. It was a combination of
practical judgment and vibration on my part. I
left no stone unturned. I followed all leads, and
talked with others I felt led to talk to. Judge
Bradley, a very old resident, knew nothing.
Neither did the postmaster's mother, a Mrs. King.
The most help I got was from a newspaper man, a
Mr. Harder, who publishes the Weed Log, and a
clerk in the Log Cabin Hotel, an elderly gentle-
man who has lived in Weed for twenty-seven
years. His name is Bob Young.

Harder was running the election at the time.
He ran in on me on election morning, to relate
an unusual experience which had just occurred. I

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have only his word for this, as I didn't see the
creature involved. It seems that a sort of moron
ambled into the place and said he just wanted
to watch. Harder said he resembled a gorilla and
was of a low order of intelligence. Harder was
puzzled because he'd never seen this being before.
In a town so small as this, a newcomer stands out
like a sore thumb. Even the men from neighbor-
ing farms are somewhat familiar, if not actually
known. This gorilla type creature simply stood
behind one of the girls who was counting votes
and stared at her back. She became quite agitated
and it was with difficulty that Harder finally got
rid of this being. I hiked every day, alone in the
woods, and never came across anyone like this.

Even though I had no experiences to speak of
the first few days, I was convinced that there
was something around the Mountain, because I
never felt alone. But it wasn't the nicest type of
feeling. I felt as though I were being watched.
The second day there, I stumbled accidentally on
a beautiful meadow. It was so perfect, I wouldn't
have been surprised to see fairies dance. I just
lay face downwards on the earth and tried to
relax, but I had to look around every so often.
The stillness was unpleasant. It was too full of
something unseen. You can walk all day long
up there and not see a soul. And I constantly
lost my way. I'm a good hiker and I have a
good sense of direction, but it seemed as though
something were deliberately trying to confuse me.
It's a very unpleasant feeling to realize that you
are lost in a strange place. Each time this hap-
pened, I refused to become panicky and simply
allowed myself to be led according to my lights.

I think there may be peculiar forces in the
ground, because I saw a dog act very strangely. I
was walking at sundown, and passed a cottage
with a large red dog in front of it. I've been
raised in the country with dogs, and I think I
know their habits fairly well. Many times they
roll over and over on the earth, seeming to enjoy
the fragrance, etc., but this dog had all the ap-
pearance of a dead animal. His legs were straight
up in the air, paws hanging rigidly and even his
mouth was fixed in a stiff position. I watched
him for some time, then started for the cottage
door to tell the occupants they had a dead dog.
Just to be sure, I spoke to the dog first. This
seemed to rouse him from his trance. He slithered
through the half open gate and came over to
where I stood. I patted his head and started on
my way, but he put a paw on my arm. He didn't
seem to want me to go, and he didn't look like
an ordinary dog at all. He watched me all the
way down the road, with the strangest expression
in his eyes. I only mention this incident to bring
out the fact that I think there may be certain
currents in the earth.

I wouldn't lay too much stock in this next in-
cident, but I'll, give it to you anyway. I'm a
very practical person, and I always tear every-
thing apart in analyzing it. I eliminate every

DISCUSSIONS

175

material factor, and what is left, I consider the
truth. At least I'm able to know which experi-
ences are fancied, and which are not.

I was awakened from sleep, by a peculiar scale
which seemed to come from under the bed. At
first I thought it might just be the pounding of
my heart. You know how you sometimes hear
it in the pillow? But this was different. It
sounded like a cross between the plucking of harp
strings, and a very delicate anvil chorus. It
sounded exactly like some sort of mechanism
within the earth. I got it only once again some
nights later, but much fainter.

But here are the three experiences which I
know to be true. Each happened when I least
expected it.

I had been there over a week and never walked
at night. This particular evening, I was very
tired, but had the urge to go for a stroll. I took
my flashlight and smokes, and sauntered down
the highway towards the Mountain. It was that
peculiar half light between day and night. There
was only an egg shaped moon, and about three
planets. As I neared a certain hill, I happened
to glance upwards, and saw a rocket like affair
heading towards a hill. It happened so quickly,
that I wasn't able to digest it until afterwards.
But it didn't travel too quickly for me to observe.
I've seen Halley's comet twice, and I've seen
shooting stars, and it was neither. The nearest
resemblance, though not exactly, was to a torch
which might have been hurled from a plane. I
thought, "That's funny. Now who would want
to set fire to the woods?" And then I realized
that the mark would be missed anyway, because
this rocket affair disappeared over the hill. If
it had gone down behind this swell, I'd have
thought it landed on the other side, but it just
dissolved in midair. According to my scale of
measurement, from where I was, this thing was
visible for about three feet, appearing to come
from the evening star, or whatever that first big
planet is, going towards the moon which was
nearer the hill, and then disappearing. I figure
the disappearing doesn't mean it was no longer in
flight. It just disappeared from my sight because
there was no longer any visible propulsion. The
head of this rocket was brighter than the tail, and
the tail was composed of bright lines such as a
jet propelled machine might leave in its wake. The
hill over which it disappeared is just east of Mt.
Shasta. If this is what I think it was, I believe
it kept going and landed right in the Mountain,
much as a plane might fly into a hangar. Harder
who went on a geologists' expedition up the
mountain, says there are caves in the glacier big
enough to throw Weed into! And I thought it
very funny when I related this experience to
Young. He looked at me very queerly and asked
me which side of the mountain this occurred.
When I said the east side, he smiled even more
queerly. He said most everything occurred on
that side.

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But here's the payoff. I came home immedi-
ately, and wrote the experience to my sister.
Wrote 'till nearly midnight; sealed the letter, and
retired. I arose in order to adjust a blind, and
rested my hand on the bedstead for support. I
got such an electric shock, that when I pulled my
hand away, I saw the sparks and heard them. I
went over the floor for any exposed wires and
found none. Tried to repeat the occurrence, but
no soap.

And here's the piece de resistance. I'll re-
member it much longer than the rest. I get goose
pimples even now, when I relate it.

A couple of days later, just before returning
to San Francisco, Young was telling me about a
voice he used to hear across the way from the
hotel. It seems he used to walk about six
o'clock every evening. This spot is called Pil-
grim's Rest, and is in a direct line with the room
I occupied. There's a clean sweep of the moun-
tain here. I could see it from my window. He
said it was the anguished cry of a woman. I
determined to explore this very evening. Along
about three thirty in the afternoon, I became
very drowsy and lay down for a nap. I dozed
until five, and awakened. I lay with my eyes
closed, in that relaxed state where you can't ex-
actly collect your wits. Suddenly I was aware of
voices. Women's voices. They seemed to be faint-
ly yelling. In my half stupor, I thought there
were young people playing outside. Then I re-
membered there were no young people here. Now,
one voice was predominant. It was a woman's
voice. Rather thin and pathetic. It was more
of an anguished call, than the type of scream
accompanying a murder or such. It called, "Hel
. . .hel . . . help!" It was such an anguished
cry for aid, that I turned icy cold, and the
minute I became taut, it ceased. I was out of
the bed like a shot out of a cannon. To be
truthful, I don't know whether the voice came
from the ground under the bed, or across the
way from the mountain. I'm inclined to think
it came from the mountain.

But here's the difference between these last two
experiences: The rocket incident was objective,
and the voice, subjective. In other words, I know
that anyone with me would have seen the flare.
I'm not sure that anyone with me would have
heard the voice, and Young says the same. He
says no one ever seemed to hear what he heard.

And last of all, I'm curious to know if I was
supposed to see this flare, or if it was an acci-
dent?

There you have the works, Mr. Palmer. As
much as I can give you. I tried my darndest
to climb that mountain, but no marked trails, and
they simply wouldn't let me go alone. They said
I'd make trouble for them if I got lost; and that
I'd freeze to death in the night, etc., and to tell
you the truth, I'm glad I couldn't go. I'm not
ashamed to be afraid of such things. I figure I
didn't do too badly for a newcomer. The geol-

DISCUSSIONS

ogists' expedition found nothing at all. They had
University of California men with them and all
the necessary equipment. Tapped all over the
mountain and explored thoroughly. I think this
proves that only those who are ready for such
experiences, have them. It's not so much a case
of being equipped materially, but being equipped
psychically. Of course I'm in favor of an armed
expedition to clean out dero, but I don't think
any but righteously advanced people can contact
the good forces.

In signing off, I'm here to tell you that you
have a jewel in Shaver. What he doesn't know —
isn't worth knowing. Let those who want to
laugh, laugh. I'll take vanilla.

Emma Martinelli
1040 Leavenworth St.
San Francisco 9, Calif.

Well, here's one more report on Shasta — and
one on a space ship? Or some sort of rocket
craft? Or was it a meteor? Like the meteor over
Finland that was so vigorously depicted as a space
ship at first, then repeatedly denied? We confess
we don't know, but we print this letter because
we do know it is sincere, and that means some-
thing. — Ed.

HE'S BEEN IN CAVES TOO!

Sirs:

Your issue of Amazing Stories for August has
been brought to my attention and as there are
several items that evidently refer to myself and
my teachings I believe it well to clarify a number
of points mentioned in the article on the Shaver
Mystery as well as in some of the letters.

Like Mr. Shaver, I have had personal contact
with the Dero and even visited their underground
caverns. In the outer world they are represented
by an organization known loosely as the "Black
Brotherhood," whose purpose is the destruction
of the good principle in man.

As to the machinery which I have described in
various booklets, it is the remnants of a lost age
of science that has been preserved through the
ages. Some of it is potentially of more destructive
power than the atom bomb and is restrained from
man because falling into the wrong hands, as it
inevitably would, it could destroy the world. The
machines of the Dero are destructive enough, but
they are only the ones manufactured by a race
which had lost most of its once great knowledge
and who had turned their effort solely to destruc-
tion. Atlantis was destroyed lest the ancient wis-
dom fall into the hands of the debased race
which became the Dero. Tremendous upheavals
on the surface drove the races underground. An-
other point: The underground cities and caverns
are, in most part, protected by space-warps, a
science known to the ancients, but only touched
on by modern science. Earthquakes or even up-
heavals of mountain chains in no way affect them.

In your answer to the letter of Edward R.

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STORIES

Walker, you speak of the 144 masters who "Rule
the Earth." This is an incorrect quotation if it
refers to material rule. The masters or adepts do
not rule; they guide and direct man in his
spiritual evolution. The White Lodge never in-
terferes between man and the effects of the
causes he has set up. Spiritually and mentally
man was not ready for the discovery of atomic
power, yet the White Lodge could and would not
interfere. They could only work to make man
capable of handling it wisely.

Because so many have tried to make the White
Lodge a supernatural thing rather than what it
is, a group of persons who have evolved mentally,
physically and spiritually ahead of the mass of
mankind, much misconception has arisen. It is
the most coldly logical group I have ever con-
tacted.

Personally, I have no superstition, am not a
spiritualist or believer in the supernatural. I
know that everything exists because of definite
law. There is no supernatural or miracles. How-
ever—I do know that the race Mr. Shaver calls,
"Dero" exists, though I know them under another
name.

I note that many are wanting to enter these
caves. For one who has not developed a pro-
tective screen this would be suicide and one who
revealed their location would be a murderer.

Among my students are members of the Quiche
and Mayan tribes of Guatamala, Ecuador and
Yucatan. It is interesting to note that they know
of both the good and bad underworld dwellers.

In closing, let me say that I have delved deeply
into these things for a lifetime, both in person
and in books, having some 10,000 volumes of re-
lated subjects in my private library and can def-
initely say that between the lines of the Shaver
stories one can find a vast amount of truth.
Dr. M. Doreal

Brotherhood of the White Temple, Inc.

1600 Logan Street

Denver 5, Colo.
Here you are, readers — one of the White Broth-
ers. HE says the dero are real. We wish he'd
prove it to us — but strangely enough human be-
ings aren't spiritually "ready" to have it ^proved.
Aren't we? — Ed.

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{The average American today has a choice of just going
where "his feet take him", or choosing wisely the
course to follow. Let's skip ahead JO years, and take a
took at John Jones — and listen to him . . .)

"^ometimf.s ] feel so good it almost scares me.

O "'This house— I wouldn't swap a shingle off its roof
for any other house on earth. This little valley, with the
pond down in the hollow at the back, is the spot I like best
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"And they're mine. I own 'em. Nobody can take 'em
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to have tomorrow — that's as near Heaven as man gets on
this earth!

"It wasn't always so.

"Back in '46— that was right after the war and sometimes
the going wasn't too easy — I needed cash. Taxes were tough,

and then Ellen got sick. Like almost everybody else, I was
buying Bonds through the Payroll Plan — and I figured on
cashing some of them in. But sick as she was, it was Ellen
who talked me out of it.

" 'Don't do it, John!' she said. 'Please don't! For the first
time in our lives, we're really saving money. It's wonderful
to know that every single payday we have more money put
aside! John, if we can only keep up this saving, think what
it can mean! Maybe someday you won't have to work.
Maybe we can own a home. And oh, how good it would feel
to know that we need never worry about money when we're
old!'

"Well, even after she got better, I stayed away from the
weekly poker game— quit dropping a little cash at the hot
spots now and then— gave up some of the things a man feels
he has a right to. We didn't have as much fun for a while
but we paid our taxes and the doctor and— we didn't touch
the Bonds.

"What's more, we kept right on putting our extra cash
into U. S. Savings Bonds. And the pay-off is making the
world a pretty swell place today!"

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Full text of "Amazing Stories v20n07 (1946 10.Ziff Davis)(cape1736)"

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